Coming Around Again
by theglamourfades
Summary: After losing his job at Downton Comprehensive, John Bates is attempting to rebuild his life. Former student Anna Smith is on the verge of small screen stardom. A school reunion brings new perspectives and second chances, bringing two different worlds together once more. Modern Anna x Bates AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Another modern!Anna x Bates AU! I just couldn't resist. This concept has been in my head for a while, and its gone through some changes from what I originally envisaged but I just had to bring it to life. It'll be multi chapter but I'm not sure how long it'll go yet. I just hope you'll find it as exciting as I do :)**

**Special thanks to fuzzydream for helping me to iron out some details.**

**Disclaimer: Anna Smith, John Bates and all the other characters of Downton Abbey belong to Julian Fellowes/Carnival/ITV.**

* * *

Nursing his cup of coffee, John let out a sigh as he stood beneath the arches of the attic room, peering out of the small window that still afforded him quite the view. He wasn't sure what he was looking for on this morning; some kind of guarantee that the day would be a good one, though he knew by now that you could never tell so early on. A spark of inspiration, perhaps. His insomnia always knew the most unfortunate times to strike. Since his brain decided that 3.30am would be a good time to wake up he hadn't been able to doze back off, not even with the aid of the particularly weighty tome he'd been doing his best to try and crawl through. When the chorus of birds sounded out from outside his window, it had been his cue to get up too.

_Can't even have a lie in on my first day off in months_, he had thought, cursing loudly and getting quite the wake-up call as the shower teemed icy water onto his body. He fiddled pointlessly with the heat control as drips of water rained on his head and obscured his vision, realising once more that it had needed fixing for some time now. He probably should get out of the habit of putting himself last, but he was usually that tired he didn't fancy bringing work home with him, even if it wouldn't take that long.

He tried not to be too introspective these days, after Robert had accused him too many times half-playfully of being a stick in the mud, but in these quiet hours as the day was only properly emerging from its dawn he found that he couldn't help his mind from wandering. He thought about how idealistic – and downright foolish – he had been in his younger days, believing that everything would go exactly to his grand plan, even down to the smallest details. There was a small smile inching at his lips as he recalled his mother's voice as clear as day, beckoning him in from the hours he spent roaming outside. _You've got your head way up in the clouds, my lad_. She told him that it was a blessing and a curse in combination, and he had come to learn that the hard way.

But he had never been completely lost to dreaming. He always buckled down to work when he needed to, and that ethic had served him well, especially in these past few years. The cottage may have been more than a bit of a ramshackle when he had got there, but it was one of his proudest achievements that he had got it up to scratch, almost completely on his own. It truly was his home now; though he couldn't have imagined it even months after he had moved in, now he couldn't imagine living anywhere else. The nearest city was miles away and it even took a bit of a trek to get into the village but he valued the seclusion, probably more than anything else in his life. It gave him the space to breathe and grow, and he wasn't complacent enough to consider that he didn't need that anymore.

Life had certainly not turned out the way he had planned, but it looked far better than he ever thought it would again, and for that he couldn't be anything but deeply and heartily grateful.

He was enjoying the peace of the morning, beginning to find the plan for his free day in the breathtaking landscape before him – surely the best vantage point that was to be had across the county at his own personal disposal. All too soon, that peace was abruptly and unfortunately shattered.

There could only be one person calling upon him at this time of the morning, and John muttered to himself disgruntedly as he bundled himself out of the small shelter of the attic, traipsing down the stairs that creaked ever so slightly under his feet. It seemed that he wouldn't be getting his day off, after all.

He tried not to look too thwarted as he opened the door to find, sure enough, Robert standing on the doorstep, wearing a wide and vaguely infuriating grin. For some unknown reason he was decked out in full tweed, though there was a newspaper under his arm in place of a rifle. John supposed it was a specification of the job being lord of the manor that you could wake up in the morning and choose to be whatever portion of eccentric was required that day. It would only be letting the side down otherwise.

"You took your time," he remarked, which John thought rather rich coming from someone who lived somewhere where it took at least half an hour or more to get to the other side of the residence.

"Well, I wasn't expecting company, at least not so soon." Holding the door open with one hand, John was already turning back into the cottage with the prospect of gathering up his toolbox. "What is it today, then?"

Robert shook his head fiercely, sending his already windswept hair into another flurry.

"Bates, my dear fellow, do you think I would deny you your day off? I'm disappointed that you'd think so little of me. Remember that I'm your friend first and foremost, employer second."

It was a matter that neither of them particularly acknowledged much, knowing it would never lose the ring of awkwardness, largely on John's part. Yet it didn't mean that he wasn't thankful to his oldest friend. Indeed he owed him the greatest debt there was, offering him a much needed lifeline when he was all but down and out. He did have his moments – that thankfully were kept in check by the presence of his wife, Cora – but on the whole, Robert was a very generous boss indeed. Not that John really gave him much cause to be, needing little other favours than the roof that was over his head.

John nodded with a faint smile, which crumpled when Robert's mouth hung open again.

"Well, there is a light that's misbehaving," he admitted quietly, the sound of his boots stomping on the mat inside almost drowning out his voice. "The same one as last week, I'm afraid. It's not bothering me and Cora too much, but you know what some of the visitors are like. If everything's not immaculately perfect, they complain that they're not getting enough for their money. But of course I don't expect you to do anything about it now."

"I'll make it my first point of call tomorrow," John affirmed, retrieving his mobile from the pocket of his jeans and typing out a memo. "Sounds like it might be the fuses come loose. Probably needs a trip up into the village for some new ones."

Robert smiled at his friend's methodical nature, never able to shut off completely. "I should take my mother's advice, go back to the days of having everything lit by candlelight and oil lamp. It might make for a more authentic experience."

"Probably not one that those of us living in the 21st century would appreciate," John quipped, looking over his shoulder as he ambled into the kitchen. "Not to mention that you'd put me out of one line of work."

"Nonsense," Robert huffed lightly, "there's always a place for a man like you."

John let out an amused snort of laughter at the vaguely sentimental remark. "You flatter me, Lord Grantham."

"None of that," Robert aimed a finger towards John as he sat down at the single chair that occupied the small kitchen table. "Let's agree not to talk shop for today."

"I'll drink to that," John grinned, flicking on the coffee machine and sending it into action once more.

Once the coffee had brewed, John made up two cups, adding the unhealthy amount of milk that Robert insisted upon and leaving his own black. His second cup of the day was not drained as quickly as the first, though it was Robert who did most of the talking – as was usual – excitedly filling John in on the talks he'd been having with some people he'd met up with to utilise Downton Abbey to its full potential, remaining as part heritage site and listed building that was a prime location for history lovers and parties of retirees on day trips out and for the rest of the year providing the location for a series of social enterprises to have trial runs of their services. John could only imagine what Robert's mother would make of it all, turning in her grave if she had occupied one. Robert insisted that everything that was being planned was in line with the estate's running, only looking slightly worried at the prospect of the rebuke he was certain to receive. John had to admit that it all sounded very interesting, and as active facilities and building manager of the grand house he was sure to be consulted and even take on a few more responsibilities. The place ran the risk of becoming static and outdated if it continued as it was, with so much competition from elsewhere around the country, Robert was passionately arguing, and John was impressed that everything he'd been telling his friend for years believing it was falling on deaf ears was now actually sinking in. He supposed he did look just a touch smug as he leant against the counter, arms folded and nodding silently as Robert came to his conclusion.

Throughout their conversation he had noticed Robert pushing the newspaper he had brought over by a few centimetres across the table at a time, and before he could turn to rinse out his cup a not-so-subtle cough from his friend caught John's attention.

"You should go and get that checked out, doesn't sound too good to me," he remarked, tea towel held in his hand.

The sheepish look on Robert's face didn't exactly fill him with confidence; instead, it made his stomach lurch quite uncomfortably, and he began to regret having that second cup at all. He cocked his head to the side, able to read his friend like a book and knowing when he had some plan up his sleeve. Robert Crawley was never one to come forward quickly, and there was nothing else for it but for him to be the one to get to the point.

"Alright, let's have it."

Robert simply glared with wide eyes, feigning total innocence which didn't fool John for a second. He was determined not to be put off his stride.

"Whatever it is you've obviously been thinking about since the moment you got here. I suppose it's got something to do with that," John gestured towards the rolled up newspaper.

He attempted to continue with his tack of naivety for a few moments, and then Robert shrugged, taking the pages between his hands and folding them out carefully when he'd got to the one he wanted. John squinted from a distance, and in that moment was glad he'd left his reading glasses by the bedside.

As he got close enough to see, Robert's finger pointed over the headline of text in the box, a hot surge of fear travelled down his spine. Of all the things he had expected, it certainly hadn't been that.

_Downton College for the Arts  
formerly  
Downton Comprehensive School  
presents the Class of 2001_

_School reunion, Thursday 15__th__ May 2014_

"You were still there then, weren't you?" Robert asked, this time it seemed really and truly innocently.

"Yeah," John muttered shortly, wrapping the tea towel tightly around his hand on instinct, part of him hoping that it might be enough to cut off the circulation. "At least, I think I was, I don't know for sure."

In truth, the date was etched in his mind, burned into his brain. 20th February 2003. The day that his teaching career had come to an unceremonious and deeply ungracious end, the day the threatening foundations of his world had finally crumbled to rubble.

Of course he hadn't forgotten about that former life completely. It was impossible to do with something he had dedicated himself to, as wholly as he did with everything he took on. He had believed that he had found his calling, even though the road hadn't always ran smoothly and presented him with obstacles, largely of his own making. It had ended badly. That was a great understatement. It had shattered him. Not all of the memories were painful, and those were the ones he had chosen to keep as his mementos, with some work gone into the task. But for his own sake, he had to banish the rest. He had moved on so far now that even the thought made him anxious that things would begin to slip again, helpless from his grasp. He felt furious that Robert hadn't even considered how such a proposition would make him feel, though he betrayed little of his anger as they were both holed up in the modest kitchen. He straightened his shoulders, taking the carefully crafted nonchalant approach instead.

"Isn't that what Facebook and all that lark is for? Just to be nosey and see what people who pretended to be your friends years ago are up to now? That's if what they tell the world is actually the truth."

"It is for those of us who don't cut ourselves willingly off from society," Robert shot back from the table with a smirk. "And good to know that you're being as cynical as ever."

John made a face, unimpressed at his friend's assertion. "I'm not cynical. I just don't see the point, that's all." He wiped the splashes of the water the rather powerful blast from the tap had left from the counter. "The past is that. In the past. I don't feel the need to revisit it."

Robert sighed, bringing a hand to smooth back his errant hair. John Bates was never easy to contend with; he could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be, which was quite frequently. He could see that this would require a little more time, and perhaps regretfully the deliverance of some harsh truths. However, for now he decided to tread softly.

"Not even for one night? Not even that, look." Once again Robert was pointing to the details that were printed before them, staring them both in the face. "Three and a half hours. What harm could that possibly do? I'll give you double the time back."

"That's an offer I can't possibly refuse," John answered distinctly sarcastically, causing Robert to roll his eyes.

It must have meant something to Robert, if he'd gone to all the trouble to go down to the village, buy the newspaper and bring it all the way back here. He wondered whether he had been giving off a certain vibe of late, moping around or complaining too much about his duties. He certainly had no problems with his job. Granted, it wasn't the most stimulating of roles, but at least it kept his mind and his body active, saving him the trouble of having to do much in the way of working out. He didn't feel any longing for his other career, or at the very least he didn't believe he had done anything to show it.

Robert was persisting with his glare, and John was abruptly reminded of the advice his friend had given him all those years ago, when he had been in the depths of despair and only one hand had been willing enough to hold out towards him.

_You can't let what's happened rule your life. Don't look back and brood. All you can do is plough forward, as best you can._

A tiny, almost imperceptible quirk of his lips could be seen altering John's expression, knowing from experience that Robert had had to take his own advice way back when he got into money troubles and nearly lost the estate. He might have looked downright ludicrous in that mock-hunting get-up, but it had to be said that he did speak sense, and especially when he had needed to hear it the most.

With a tentative hand, he picked up the newspaper from the table at the same time as Robert stood, folding the notice away out of his view.

"I'll think about it," John uttered, shaking his head as Robert's ruddy face erupted into another smile akin to the one he had been wearing on his arrival, but this time even more irritating. "But that's the best you're getting out of me for now."

"My good chap, your best is all I can ever ask for."

* * *

Anna sat in the shelter of the trailer, making light work of the chicken salad sandwich she was munching through, already feeling the outfit that was too tight as it was restrict even further with each bite she took. At first she thought the vast rails of wardrobe that were assigned to her were a definite perk of the job, but she would have rather got to wear them minus the corset and other garments that were time appropriate. To be brutally honest, she didn't see the need for them – surely it was up to them as actors to convey the conventions of the time through their actions and expressions rather than having the aid of something that wouldn't even been seen most of the time anyway – but the producer was a stickler for detail and argued that every little thing really did make a difference to the performance of each individual, whether they realised it or not.

For six months of the year she lived and breathed the Edwardian era, and for all her unvoiced complaints about the heaviness of certain costumes or the amount of hanging around she had to do being part of a large ensemble cast, all of whom had scenes divided between them, she loved it. The show was her first major role after finishing her prolonged drama training, having done a couple of touring productions in the theatre, a great deal of radio work, and a fairly minor part in a hospital drama. She decided she really had nothing to lose by auditioning, this new show with its prestigious links in both cast and writing causing quite a fuss in the acting world before it had even got off the ground. As with every role she tried out for she did nothing short of her absolute best, carefully preparing what she would read and tailoring it to what she had been able to research, though nearly every aspect about the show had been kept under wraps. She hadn't expected much to come from it, knowing on the day that she could have done much better, so it made it all the more surprising to find out that she had in fact got the part, and a considerable one at that. She remembered nearly being knocked from her feet in the middle of the street when she received the call, shrieking out and sending everyone else scurrying away from the crazy girl with a phone glued to her ear.

In acting terms it was the role of a lifetime, especially for a young actress who was just starting to make her name. Her fellow cast members were quite possibly the nicest bunch of people anyone could come across, the younger ones she could identify closely with and the veterans incredibly supportive in all the advice they were able to give. Anna felt deeply honoured to be able to have her name next to them in the credits, never mind sharing scenes. Nobody could have predicted the success the show would achieve after just one series, there was something about it that made the public take it to their hearts immediately. The whole cast found themselves sought after and adored, and to her bemusement, Anna was one of the fans' most favourites. Well, she supposed that it wasn't too hard to understand. Lady Iris was a beautifully written character, with so many wonderful qualities; kind, soft-hearted and enthusiastic about life, but with a headstrong determination and desire to change the world that was fascinating for a woman of her time. The more Anna read of her, the more she wished that she was a little more like the role she was portraying. Her time on-screen had well and truly propelled her into the limelight, and in-between filming she was forever being chased to do interviews and photoshoots for fashion magazines. Once the second series was finished filming, there was even talk of some of the cast heading to America for a promotional tour, though they really needed to do very little in the way of that – even there, the show had burst into a life of its own.

Anna was still finding her feet with it all, in truth sometimes needing to pinch herself to be assured that everything that was happening was actually real life. It was a dream come true – a dream that she had always hoped for when she had made the choice to go into the profession, but hadn't really believed would materialise so soon. Life had certainly not played out how she expected, and sometimes she couldn't quite fathom the craziness that came with the job she put her heart and soul into. But there was no doubting the fact that she was very lucky indeed to have everything she had, as well as the ongoing support of her family who had always been so good and hadn't deterred her or urged her to get a 'proper' and 'sensible' job instead. She promised that there was never any chance of her getting too big for her boots, but if she started to stray they would be there to ensure that she remained down to earth; the same girl from that little town in North Yorkshire who had stars in her eyes but a good, strong head on her shoulders and her feet planted firmly on the ground.

The day had already been disrupted by the unseasonal and unpredictable weather, and no doubt the lunch break would come to a conclusion sooner rather than later. Anna temporarily undid a couple of the neat buttons at her side, picking up her copy of the script after she polished off the other half of her sandwich in a record time that she had become accustomed to now, always needing to be on alert whenever she was called. Leaning back in the make-up chair and letting her polished posture slouch for the time being she went studiously through her lines, reading them over again even though she had them memorised by now. If there was one thing she had learnt it was not to be complacent. Another look through always helped and would even give you a different perspective on a scene, especially just as you were about to go into it. A little giddy smile curled her lips upwards as she briefly thought of the person who had given her such an inspired piece of advice.

Without realising it, she became absorbed and began to say the lines out loud, leaving spaces inbetween for her respondent, who at that point was only imagined.

"Edward, can't you see? It's impossible for me to accept you. It's not just about what Papa thinks, and it's not about my reputation. I just know that I'm capable of so much more than what the world expects of me…"

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but they wanted me to come and check everything was okay."

A shrill, almost timid voice squeaked apologetically from the door of the trailer, and Anna jumped in her concentration. Daisy did the same in seeing Anna's response, the powder brush almost flying from her hand. Both of the women laughed, Daisy taking Anna's lead when she realised that the moment was nothing to be embarrassed about.

"No need to be sorry, Daisy," Anna did her best to make the younger woman feel at ease, smiling in the small mirror as Daisy reached for her make-up kit on the counter in front. "Just one of my bad habits. I should really stop doing it by now."

"Oh no, I like hearing it," Daisy replied, dabbing a tiny bit of powder onto her brush and dotting it at the curve of Anna's jaw. "Gives me a bit of an advantage, even if it is only snippets."

The producers and directors were ruthlessly strict about not letting the scripts leak even so much as yards out of the confines of the set. There was a hint of awe in her voice as she spoke, and sometimes the way she was made Anna forget that they hailed from the very same place.

"And you do sound ever so ladylike. I could never speak that way, not with all the coaching in the world. It's lovely."

Anna smirked, careful not to move her head too much while Daisy did her job.

"Well, I only _pretend_ to be a lady," she affirmed. "Get me back to Yorkshire and it's a different story."

"I'm sure it's not," Daisy replied, and Anna thought she was far too kind. Either that or it really was rubbing off on her. She always considered herself to be a bit of a method actress, though she didn't take it quite as far as some people. Before she could daydream too much, Daisy interrupted her thoughts once more. "Are you getting to go home any time soon?"

Though she wasn't aware she was doing it, Anna smiled fondly into the mirror.

"Once we're all finished, I'm hoping to spend a little bit of time there. Just before the press machine kicks into gear again. Although I am free for a couple of weeks in a month or so, so I might go up and take everyone by surprise then."

"That'll be nice," Daisy answered, her own voice softening with nostalgia. "Depending on the schedules, I think I'll be able to go myself for a while."

Anna clutched her hand to her chest, pretending to be deeply offended. "But whoever will do my make up then? Don't tell me it's Shirley from special effects. I don't think we're quite ready for a crossover with The Walking Dead."

There was a flurry of laughter, and the way Daisy shook her head made the waves of her hair flounce.

"I'll see to it that it isn't. It's just that my boyfriend's in a band, and he'll be going away on tour soon. So I want to catch him before he leaves."

Though they were relatively close given the time they spent together on the set, Daisy had kept that fact something of a secret. Anna listened attentively as the younger woman chatted happily away about her other half, who played keyboards and was originally from a town just outside Leeds, but had moved to Downton when he was 16. They hadn't been going out all that long, and Daisy said that it was her fault; that he had liked her for ages but she hadn't noticed and then was certain that he couldn't possibly have been after her, as it was her friend Ivy who usually got all the attention. Anna was very fond of her and felt quite protective, almost like she was a little sister. She was very talented at what she did and if there was one thing that she wished she could do, it was to instil a little more confidence in the younger woman. But in the same respect, she saw some of her younger self in Daisy and was heartened by the fact that it was probably just a matter of time until she gained that assurance and self-belief. Maybe this boyfriend of hers would help; from what Anna could tell he sounded absolutely lovely and obviously worshipped the ground Daisy walked on.

The girls talked and laughed about the peculiarities of their home town, and it wasn't until she checked her phone on a whim that Anna found a message alert on the screen.

"Oh, it's from my best friend from home," Anna said aloud, thinking that it was funny that Gwen had chosen to text her just then as she was in the middle of reminiscing. She let out a little gasp before she had finished reading the message completely, and Daisy's eyes shot towards her, silently asking what the matter was.

Anna smiled up to say that there was nothing wrong before she let Daisy in on what she had just discovered.

"Apparently there's going to be a reunion at my old school," she said, feeling herself smile stupidly.

She hadn't been one of those people who had been glad to have seen the back of school when it was over; in fact, she was something of the opposite. She had a great fondness for her high school, had made some memories there that she cherished dearly as well as making many friends, Gwen included. It was also the place that set her on the path that she was on now, providing so many rewards for her hard work. It was something she regretted, that she didn't get to go home nearly enough these days. While everyone else had the chance to catch up on a regular basis, or even just for occasional holidays, Anna missed out on it all, being too busy with her training in London or chasing roles. It was only now that things were settling down – at least in the fact that she had a stable job – that she could even consider going to such a thing. She had only been talking not too long ago about her envy of Gwen having a meet up with her old university friends, yearning for a bit of normality in her life that had suddenly become something of a whirlwind. This seemed like the perfect opportunity, at just the right time. She suddenly felt very excited about it.

"Downton Comprehensive," Daisy read as she peered at the screen over Anna's shoulder. "That was my school as well! It really is a small world." She stared off into the distance for a moment, apparently astounded by the fact. "Was Mr Carson the headteacher when you were there?"

Anna grinned as she thought of the stern-faced, straight-laced towering figure of a man who everyone was absolutely petrified of, his eyebrows causing more alarm than any other aspect about him. As one of the prefects in sixth form she had more contact with him than most other pupils, and found, as was often the case, that his bark was much worse than his bite.

"He was," she replied, casting her mind back. How could it possibly have been almost thirteen years since she had left school?

Thoughts chased one another in her head, of the different classrooms and the hangouts the pupils occupied, the other teachers that made up the staff, some dreaded and some held dearly. Her heart foolishly skipped a beat as she thought of one in particular, and just considering whether he would turn up at this event made her start to blush profusely. He was probably high up the senior staff by now, or more likely he had gone on to a better school elsewhere in the country. Still, there was the possibility that he could make the time, of course, just like she could and nobody probably would expect her to.

She snapped out of her daydreaming, straightening herself up in the chair and preparing herself to go back on set, trying to get his voice that had started to echo on the power of reminiscence out of her head but at the same time welcoming its presence that she had missed.

"When is it? Do you think you'll be able to go?" Daisy asked eagerly, swiping the brush with one finishing final stroke over her face, Anna trying not to get the powder caught in the back of her throat.

"Thursday 15th May," she uttered from memory, knowing instantly that the date fitted in with her break from filming.

The call for her came before she could reply to Gwen, but as soon as she had finished for the day she rushed back to the trailer, typing out her response with a smile.

_- Count me in – I'll definitely be there x_

It was the perfect opportunity indeed.

* * *

**A/N: So, what do you think? Something you imagined? I would love to know your thoughts and appreciate every reading :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Wow, I'm so thrilled with the reaction to this story. You are all too kind :) Hopefully you'll find things just as intriguing from here on in (and I'm also glad that there might be some speculation over what happened with John already. I bet your theories are better than what I have in mind)...**

**Disclaimer still stands. Let's kick this reunion off properly.**

* * *

She hadn't expected such a small trip to turn into a hard fought battle. Even though it was within her own free time, the producers were not keen to say the least on Anna attending the school reunion back at home. They did get paranoid fairly easily and were concerned about all manner of things taking place, all of which Anna could safely contend would not occur. After weeks of negotiation and lots of assurances – including some intervention from a couple of the elder members of the cast who could speak from experience – she was finally granted the permission to go, with some conditions attached.

Anna was still cringing from the memory of watching the car they had sent to escort her pull up outside the door. A dark 4x4 with blacked out windows was not the most inconspicuous of vehicles, and it would stick out like a sore thumb in Downton. She could only imagine what people would think of her, as surely they would know it was her inside without being able to tell properly, and she flushed uncomfortably at the notion anyone would willingly believe that she was trying to draw attention to herself. Even more embarrassingly, they had insisted on her being accompanied by a chauffeur. It was a small mercy it had been agreed upon that she could choose the person for the job, instead of making the journey any more awkward than was necessary by needing to make small talk with a hired individual whom she had nothing in common with.

"I still can't believe Gwen came down with tonsillitis," she sighed in the echoing silence of the car, with its plush padded interior and extra safety locks. "I honestly think that she knows just when to pick her moments sometimes."

For all her prior excitement, Anna felt strangely and acutely different now. It wasn't nerves, and she knew that the peculiar feeling whatever it was wouldn't last very long, but still she was a little unnerved by it. Since Gwen had made the very croaky phone call she had had some doubts, and the passing urge to seize the wheel and turn the car back around herself was briefly tempting.

"Ahh, come on, you're Anna Smith. You can handle yourself."

The Irish brogue was accompanied with a cheeky twinkle, and Anna frowned for a minute before breaking into a smile herself. Perhaps not many would give the name of Tom Branson in reply to who they considered to be the most reliable, but Anna knew differently. They had become friends upon meeting at drama school, and kept in touch even though Tom's stint there had been short. About three months after the start of the course he had decided that becoming an actor wasn't the right path for him after all, and instead transferred to UCL to major in journalism. If they were aware of Tom's profession the show's producers surely would have warned her off the friendship. Not only did Anna have more credit and belief in those around her than that, but tabloid gossip was hardly Tom's route. He'd done some placements that he wasn't particularly proud of but they'd served him well in his progression, and he was currently interning in politics and current affairs at The Guardian. As with all of her friends she was proud of what he had achieved so far, and with that ambition came a great deal of amiability and humour. The smirk on his face turned rapidly serious and Anna worried for a moment, knowing Tom's usual demeanour.

"Of course, I'm more than happy to step in if you think you might need it. I'm not quite bodyguard standard, but I did grow up in Dublin so that's enough qualification."

"Don't be daft," Anna chided through laughter. If even Tom was making something out of it, there really was no hope. Luckily his suggestion seemed to have been in jest. "I can tell you now nothing like that will happen. It's such a small town, nobody will warrant it or even really be bothered. To be honest, I don't even know how many people will show up."

She felt rather shamed that she wasn't as in touch with these matters as she should have been, but she did know that Downton wasn't a place for fuss. Indeed there wasn't really much call for reunions, given that most people knew and saw each other regularly in the village. Self-consciousness struck Anna again as she considered. She'd certainly kept in touch as much as her schedule allowed and she hadn't been completely absent from home in the last few years, though she hadn't got back as much as she hoped. The friends that she knew and trusted best were nothing but supportive of the path her life had taken and surely most others would follow the same on encountering her again. But in close quarters, people were prone to listening to misinterpreted whispers and things that simply weren't true. Jealousy may rear its head; she wasn't naïve enough to doubt that. Perhaps she was becoming conditioned to the hardness of London, but she liked to believe that she still had enough faith to know that Downton was different. On the whole, anyway.

"It'll be fine," she said aloud, geeing herself up. She saw that Tom was smiling in the driver's seat, offering her encouragement. "It'll be a laugh, if nothing else, stepping back into the past for a few hours."

"You'll have a grand time, catching up."

Tom backed up her assertions, and she knew that he was right. She felt a bit sorry that he'd be at a loose end for the evening and was certain that he would fit in more than easily if he was to go inside with her, but she didn't want anyone to get the wrong impression. For what reason, she couldn't quite work out.

He read her thoughts as he shifted, hands fiddling with the engine key a little impatiently.

"You know the haunts. Where's good for a young, innocent Irish lad to take in the hospitality for a few hours?"

Anna stifled a burst of laughter at Tom's description of himself. "There's The Grantham Arms just on the outskirts of the village. And not much else, I'm afraid. We might have electricity and running water, but we're not quite level with London for hotspots just yet. If it wasn't for me dragging you down, you could have gone into Leeds for the night."

"No worries," he shrugged at Anna's slightly guilty expression. "It'll be nice to take it easy for a bit. The Grantham Arms it is, then." By all accounts, he was rather enthusiastic at the prospect of visiting the little pub.

"And soft drinks only," Anna issued the gentle reminder as she unclipped her seatbelt, remembering too keenly the glares she had been fixed with before she had headed back.

"Anna, I'm not that much of a rebel," Tom countered, and she felt ridiculous for even having to mention it. "Not a drop of alcohol will pass my lips, I swear. I'm in charge of precious cargo."

She raised an eyebrow at him through the open window. "I don't know if I like being referred to as something so unwieldy. Is it this dress?"

Tom roared at her joke, shaking his head as he planted his hands on the wheel.

"You look great. Now off with you, before I turn into a pumpkin."

Anna smiled, waving to the car as it drove away. She took a few moments to fully realise where she was before she turned on her heels against the stony ground, worried for a few seconds that she was going to trip over her feet. She didn't know what she had expected to find, holding some far-fetched ideas of a door to the past appearing magically before her for a silly moment or two. Apart from a few renovations bringing it firmly into the latest century, it was completely recognisable.

Through time and tribulations, Downton Comprehensive stood the same as it always did.

* * *

Standing before the building, staring up to its height, John had never wished so hard to be anywhere else on earth. He was grateful that he'd ditched the tie before he left the house as he was sure he felt suffocated enough without it, and at least he was in dark colours so it wasn't apparent how much he was sweating. Who ever would have thought that returning to a former place of work would have such a paralysing effect on him, but all too quickly he was reminded of how everything had ended there, and the waves of fear were not only completely plausible but rose up to crash around him.

He was his own man with a perfectly free will; he didn't need to suffer like this. In fact at his age he was surely far past the point of caring so much. He should have refused outright, listened to his own instincts instead of letting Robert push and convince him into somehow thinking that this was a good idea rather than the disaster he was sure it would turn out to be. His friend had been persistent, hadn't known when to stop when it came to persuading and changing his tactics when one avenue after the other had become exhausted. In the end it had been the hardest way that won out.

"_What are you so bloody afraid of? You said it yourself, the past is the past. You can't change it, but you can't run from it either. There's no point. And running is the only thing you've been doing since it happened. I'd say it's high time you stopped, turned around and faced it, head on. And if you don't take the chance now, then you'll let it grind you down. You'll never really move on, end up stuck forever."_

If he wasn't his best mate, John would have had no problem with smacking him in the face. There was no denying that Robert's words had hurt, hitting a nerve that he knew too well was exposed. He kept himself to himself for a few days, retreating back to the cottage to spend the nights sulking. In the end he could take no more of Robert's smug face greeting him each morning, and he relinquished. He supposed that was just part of it, if he was being honest. The truth was the toughest thing to bear, especially when it was shown in the clearest of daylight. Robert had been right – this chance wasn't likely to come along again for a good while, and though he was sure he was content with his life just how it was, he had been stuck in a rut over this. A few hours wasn't likely to solve the humongous mess he had made, and rather shamefully John was grateful for that, not sure he could face up to it all completely. Yet it was a step in the right direction. Or perhaps more accurately, a well-intentioned shove.

_Now or never, Bates,_ he said to himself as he ploughed on without trying to think too much.

Swinging the door open he was surprised to find that the hall was rather empty, though he had purposely arrived later. Pockets of people stood sectioned off into corners, holding plastic cups of light liquid in their hands and absorbed in their conversations, not bothering to look towards any new arrivals. There were a couple of faces that seemed sort of familiar, though they had different hairstyles and outfits and he couldn't be precisely sure, but as was expected most of the figures were unrecognisable. A 'Class of 2001' banner hung rather sadly over the stage, one side looking as though it would slump down at any second. Other than that modest piece of decoration there was nothing else to signal the occasion, and John found it vaguely amusing. No doubt Charlie Carson was still in charge, the whole atmosphere rang of his sense of style. Nothing extravagant in any way, indeed it hardly looked any different from a standard school assembly. He couldn't have imagined that the reunion was Carson's idea, and found a smile inching upon his face when across the room he sought out the sight of one Elsie Hughes talking to Beryl Patmore, the home economics stalwart. With the presence of the two women still remaining at the school he felt certain that not everything had fallen into disrepair. Then again not everyone was like him, and he definitely wouldn't have done such a terrible disservice to those two ladies to put them into the same category.

Pouring himself a cup of lemonade while nobody observed, John found a suitable spot to stick to. He winced swigging the drink that had been dispersed of bubbles, sitting left untouched for too long. In the shadows he was able to look on from a safe distance, and felt more at ease as he believed he could very well get away with not being noticed the whole night long, though afterwards Robert would reproach him and say that wasn't exactly the point. Everyone was too occupied, either with the music that was gradually getting louder or their own happy chattering. John tapped his foot along to the former and was glad that he didn't have to pretend with the latter.

"Well, if it isn't John Bates! As I live and breathe."

He'd just had time to digest the gleeful shout as the familiar face came bounding across the floor towards him. A little less hair than years ago and wearing a smarter suit, but otherwise unmistakable in his enthusiasm. He seemed especially pleased to see John and he was taken aback by it, not knowing what to say in response for a few seconds.

"Joseph," he finally managed to say the man's name, putting on a smile as his former colleague shook him firmly by the hand. "Good to see you."

"The same goes for you, though I must say I'm a little surprised." Joseph Molesley apparently couldn't disguise his astonishment. "We all thought you'd fallen from the face of the earth! How long has it been, it must be at least ten years."

"Yeah, something like that," John laughed half-heartedly, swilling the remnants around the plastic cup and yearning for its contents to be replaced with something stronger. "Things just got away from me. You know how life is."

He knew from time gone by that Joe was an inquisitive fellow, though he never meant any harm by his queries. Indeed, you weren't likely to come across anyone as harmless as Joseph Molesley. John just wished he wouldn't be too much in the mood to wonder tonight, though he doubted it very much and braced himself as Joe continued to gaze at him with wide eyes.

"I did wonder whether I was seeing things, I mean my eyesight isn't what it used to be but I don't think it's quite that bad yet," Joseph chortled a bit too loudly, causing a few people to look over. "I said to Phyllis, 'you know, I'm sure that's John Bates over there. I'd bet my boots on it.' I wasn't willing to bet much more seeing as you've been so elusive, but I knew I wasn't being deceived. I just had to come and take a closer look. Well, this is just wonderful."

The grin on the other man's face was sincere, and John found himself somewhat moved. He didn't expect anyone to react to his presence in such a way, though Joseph had probably been his closest acquaintance there back in the day.

"I just saw it advertised and thought I'd pop my head in for a bit," John explained, being as casual as he possibly could. "Couldn't see that anything bad could come from it."

"Well, if this is what it takes for you to come out of the woodwork, then I'll have to push for them to happen more often!" Joseph nudged his elbow against John's arm, nearly causing him to spill the rest of his drink down his shirt. Relaxing a little in the man's company, he allowed himself to chuckle along and nod. "Sorry that this question sounds terribly dull, but best to start with the basics. How are you these days?"

"Not too bad. Better than that," John answered, not feeling that he was being too untruthful. "Trucking along fine. Yourself?"

"Oh, can't complain at all. Life's been kind to me." John reined in his jealousy as he heard that, knowing that he had no right to feel that way. If anyone deserved luck in life then it was Joe. "Still going here, so coming up on nineteen years now. And the biggest and best thing…" He smiled widely as he brought his hand up, flashing the gold band on his finger.

"Congratulations," John said sincerely. "Who's the lucky woman?"

Joseph gazed down at his shoes for a moment, flustered as he looked away. "Well I'm far luckier than her that she ever agreed. But it's Phyllis."

At that point, both looked across the room to see the woman in question, dark hair in a neat bun. John smiled to himself thinking how Joe had long been smitten with the unassuming technology teacher. She was clearly just as much taken with the geography tutor but neither was bold enough to make the first move. He would have lost money if he ever had a wager on the fact that they would end up married.

"That's fabulous. I couldn't be happier for the both of you."

The burnish of red lifted from Joseph's face but he still looked immensely proud. "And how are things with Vera?"

He couldn't help it, his stomach still sunk to his feet on hearing her name. "I couldn't tell you, I'm afraid. We divorced a few years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that." John saw that Joseph looked regretful for being the one to rake it up with the mention of his own status, but he held no malice.

"Don't be," he assured his old friend. "It was a long time coming, and for the best." He pre-empted Joe's next question by giving the answer before he could speak. "There hasn't been anyone else since. But it's just as well that I don't mind my own company."

He smiled and it seemed enough to divert the topic, as Joseph began chatting about other things, including all the developments that had taken place at the school in the last couple of years, which hadn't been limited to the change of name. John kept one ear on the conversation, nodding along as he stole the occasional glance out to the rest of the hall. He was glad that Joe hadn't strayed too far and that nobody had come to join them. There was a face that he hadn't seen of yet, though he hadn't looked too hard, and the thought that at any moment he would get a tap on the shoulder – if not much more than that – plagued him.

Gradually he began to lose focus, and decided to ask outright to put his mind at rest.

"You don't know if Jack is here, do you?" He knew that there was a ring of desperation apparent in his voice, but little could be done to hide it.

Joseph looked at him, understanding held in his gaze along with a promise not to go into the matter.

"He isn't. At least I certainly haven't seen him." It wasn't a guarantee, but it was enough for John. "Henry's here though. Hopefully we can get him alone later on, without her."

John didn't have to enquire further to know who 'her' was; once he saw Henry Lang, the other man who made up their three-man troupe, he wasn't too shocked to see the sour face of Sarah O'Brien standing next to him. For a moment he thought he noticed her glancing towards him, utterly repulsed. It's not that he expected Henry to take sides – it wasn't as if they were the children after all – but at the same time he must have known about her allegiances, and they certainly weren't favourable towards John and definitely not after what had taken place. For a few years he'd held onto the belief that she played more than a part from the sidelines, always strangely dissatisfied with him being at the school. They could hope that Henry might break away for a bit, but John thought better of approaching them. Love could be blind, after all.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief when the kind and smiling face approached him, her smile even wider than Joseph's had been. She touched her hand to John's arm, as if to discern that he wouldn't vanish into thin air.

"Mr Bates," Elsie beamed, looking like a blushing schoolgirl herself, "you are a sight for sore eyes."

"Mrs Hughes. I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather see."

And it was the truth. From the very first moment he'd set foot in the school to the day he'd had to depart, Elsie Hughes had been a rock. Even when all others had, in one way or another, she never once judged him and always had a kind word to offer. Maybe it was some kind of connection between Celts. For the first time that night John felt himself smile naturally, tickled by the look of disbelief on her face.

"Oh, hark at us, using that Mrs and Mr nonsense," she screwed up her face, giving a toss of her head. "Let's put a stop to that at once."

John found himself enveloped in a tight hug; for someone rather petite Elsie had the ability to be overpowering. He didn't mind, feeling himself having to hold back the tears by being welcomed so openly.

"I did say, Mrs Hughes, that it was wonderful to see him." Joseph piped up from behind her, shuffling his feet rather awkwardly.

"And I'll second that," Elsie replied heartily as she pulled back, unable to stop shaking her head at the sight of John.

"I know it's been far too long," John said once he had placed a friendly peck on the English teacher's cheek, regret heaviest in his voice for thinking he had let her down by not showing his face before now.

Her hand issued another pat to his arm, already telling him it was of no bother. "Whatever the reason, which I've no need to ask, I know it was the right one for you."

A burden of a weight was lifted from John's shoulders, and he nodded his thanks to the woman before they struck up a natural conversation. He started to vastly regret the time he had spent wallowing in his own self-pity and hiding away, due to his own volition. Robert's words resonated with him even more now. He hadn't just been afraid; he had been a petrified coward, and though reasons remained, whether they were completely rightful were questionable to him now. Certainly, the longer he spent talking to the friends that he had never forgotten but regretfully had distanced himself from he could only blame himself for being held prisoner so long.

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw a sight that very nearly stopped his heart.

* * *

_For the third year running, John had been given the latest intake of sixth form students on his schedule of classes, a fact that he was pleased about. Though he enjoyed all the classes he took, in his experience it was the youngest and eldest students who usually provided the best, being the most enthusiastic and willing to push themselves. With the older ones it was also the case that they had specifically chosen to study drama for their A Levels, so he knew that mostly meant they weren't going to muck about and would instead be dedicated to their studies. Of course he always appreciated seeing a spark in each one, but he had little patience for time wasters, with a temper that he knew he had to keep in check. Hopefully there would be no need to worry about that and this lot would all be exemplary, he thought to himself as he scanned the names in the register. Well, there was a first time for everything._

_You could never completely tell until a few classes into the term, but John had the feeling he really had struck lucky this time. The students showed real promise, getting their heads down to work and already doing a great job in the practical sessions. There was lots to be excited about indeed, and he felt a renewed passion for the craft that had been lacking in him somewhat in recent months. _

_There was a few amongst them who stood out, and one in particular caught his eye from the get go. In the first couple of lessons she had sat in the middle of the classroom, golden hair shining like a beacon and always tied back into a bun. Gradually she moved forward seats until he'd see her sitting reliably at the front, sometimes there even before he had got into the room, intently looking at the pages of her notebook at what he imagined were the previous lesson's notes. He hadn't expected her to glance up while he was admiring her diligence, and his breath caught unexpectedly when he noticed just how blue her eyes were. She offered him a slightly shy but wide smile and he shook himself from the sudden and strange reverie that had descended as he walked up to his desk, not knowing what had come over him._

_Given their age, he encouraged the students to call him by his first name. It was a common practice with most sixth form classes to get them out of the habit before leaving school, and although Mr Carson didn't approve, John felt that it was better to build that relationship with his students when they were old enough to deal with it._

_Whenever he called her name from the register, she always responded by calling him 'Mr Bates'._

_He found it endearing, but was still rather puzzled by it. At the end of one lesson close to the end of the first term he caught her as she was collecting her things, one of the last to go as usual._

"_Anna, you do know that you can call me John? I won't be offended by it."_

_She gave a particularly dazzling smile in reply, and John believed that he had forgotten his own name for a few moments._

"_I know, Mr Bates. I just think for what teachers do, you deserve the proper respect." Her lips only seemed to curve more, the light filling her face. "And you most of all," she added quietly before she scurried out, books laden in her arms._

_John couldn't stop the smile from taking over his own features._

* * *

Seeing the two figures who meant so much to her talking to one another filled Anna with joy and made her even more eager to make her way across the room. She had an idea that Mrs Hughes would be there; indeed, it was impossible to imagine that the school would ever run without her. Her English teacher from Year 9 onwards, the woman was responsible for instilling a love of the subject in her, as well as so much more besides. Alongside her own mother and grandmother Anna could truly say that Mrs Hughes was the other most important female role model in her life, shaping her values and giving her guidance through the sometimes turbulent teenage years. Even just watching her chat animatedly from a distance gave Anna such great comfort.

And then there was Mr Bates. Anna felt her heart fluttering furiously in her chest simply from stealing a single glance at him, and she straightened the skirt of her dress, tucking a wavy strand of hair behind her ear. Though it had been years she noticed that time had been kind to him; he looked more handsome than ever in his dark suit with an open collar on his shirt, a lock of hair dangling insistently over his forehead even after he had raked his hand through there. When it came to him she had always felt the strangest mixture of emotions and they all came rushing back to her now, powerful in the extent that they had never been forgotten even if they had occasionally been put to one side, for the sake of preserving her sanity.

As if on cue, Mrs Hughes turned towards her as she approached, the smile irremovable from her features.

"Anna, my girl. How lovely to see you – again."

The older woman pulled the younger into an embrace, but John suspected that they had already met up with one another that evening. Blue eyes caught his gaze over Elsie's shoulder and he felt his face begin to burn, a little embarrassingly.

"It's always lovely to see you, Mrs Hughes."

Elsie beamed at the compliment, squeezing Anna's hand in hers. John knew what was to come next and found he couldn't speak as her eyes were still fixed upon him. Elsie smiled fondly while her gaze flitted between the two.

"I wondered when you might come over," the soft Scottish note of her voice intoned, helping to break the ice that had only temporarily frozen over.

"I thought it was you," Anna uttered almost absent-mindedly, out of sheer wonder.

Even in the relative dimness of the room, her eyes were sparkling bright. Everything about her sparkled, John thought and recalled from long ago.

"Hello," he replied softly, near silently.

"I'll leave you both to catch up," Mrs Hughes chimed in before she walked away, gathering empty cups that had been left on the sidelines and taking with her Joseph, who had been lingering with something of a starstruck expression on his face. As they went further into the hall, a snatch of conversation could be followed. "Yes, I'm sure that you can ask for an autograph later, Mr Molesley."

"Blimey, I just can't believe it…"

Anna let out a giggle and amongst the pop music soundtrack that was flooding through the speakers from the stage John was certain that he'd never heard a sweeter sound. At once he felt full of shame for allowing such a thought to enter his head, but then he remembered that they had both moved along from where they once were.

She composed herself, coughing lightly before she looked him full in the face.

"I never said it properly," she said, her nature as polite as ever. "Hello, Mr Bates."

There was something about the way she said his name formally in that Yorkshire lilt that he had never picked up in all the time he had lived here that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and also made him smile effortlessly.

A flurry of butterflies invaded Anna's stomach on seeing the smile cross his face, the way that crinkles had set around his eyes signalling that it was genuine. She was really rather proud of herself that she'd achieved such a feat in such a short space of time.

There were a few moments of silence that stretched on between them, and Anna shook her head, sending ringlets of her hair bouncing.

"I'm sorry if I seem funny," she countered. "I suppose I just didn't expect to see you here."

John couldn't stop the hearty chortle from escaping him, moving his hand to cover his mouth as he noticed that Anna looked a little perplexed.

"It would seem that that's a popular opinion this evening," he answered her questioning expression with a smile, "so I can assure you you're not alone."

That seemed to settle her, the radiant smile settling upon her face once more. He found himself captivated by some force that he didn't think he would encounter, unable to take his eyes off her. She really did look incredible in that simple white dress.

"I could say the same for you," he said quickly, finding a bit of confidence. "They must have been pleased, having a star attraction turn up."

When he actually heard the words leave his mouth he wanted to snatch them right back, not wanting to reduce her to a name. This was why he shouldn't be let out of the house; _what the hell must she think of him?_ Luckily it seemed to have washed over Anna, as she only stayed smiling at him, fingertips dancing upon her plastic cup. Just her presence made him calmer, she seemed so unfazed by everything when most other people would be totally unnerved by the amount of eyes staring at them. After a little while though he noticed her starting to shift, growing a bit restless as she'd graciously stopped their conversation a couple of times to have her photo taken with a few excited teachers.

John shivered as she leant up on her tiptoes towards him, warm breath breezing against his cheek.

"Do you mind if we step outside for a little bit? It might be easier to talk there."

"Of course I don't mind," he said instantly, met with a smile from her before her hand brushed briefly against his arm.

"I'll lead the way," she exclaimed. "I think I still remember my way around, it doesn't seem to have changed that much."

A part of him hoped that wasn't true.

* * *

John felt better for having the cool air on his face, the evening growing darker as they stepped outside. Looking round to take in the place where he had followed behind Anna as she walked steadily, he saw that they were in the yard that led out from the back of the building, not too far away from what had been the drama hall. Peeking through the windows briefly he could make out some canvases, it looked as though it was an art studio now. He felt a strange pang of loss as he considered how his patch had been taken over, and the past firmly erased.

Yet the memories that were held in this place seemed as strong as ever. He recalled that one night in particular; the feeling as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff and was so close to losing his balance, the frustration that had composed his entire being, the ache that lodged in his chest as he watched her walk away, that look on her face that he wished he could make disappear.

She was smiling now, glancing curiously around herself, eyes alight as she seemed to be thinking about something - even the years gone by, perhaps. Her movements were fluid even when they were only small and she held herself with a grace that went beyond her years. If he hadn't known otherwise John would have sworn she had come from a different time, hearkening back to the glory age of silver screens. It was a fickle and often ruthless profession, but of them all he had always hoped and prayed against his non-existent faith that she would prosper. And now she had, but she appeared no different to the girl he had known years ago. Not in her mannerisms and certainly not in her words, which had been so gentle in the time they had been speaking.

"So," she ventured softly in the first direct question she had asked him in the entire evening, "how are you finding it, tonight?"

"Erm, interesting?" He began to chuckle as she laughed melodiously. "I don't know, really. It feels a bit weird, if I'm being honest. But not necessarily all in a bad way."

Anna nodded along, seeming to find some understanding in what he was saying.

"It is good to see a few friendly faces, though." _And one in particular_, his thoughts barely disguised as he flashed a smile towards her.

"I quite agree," she beamed back, matching and rivalling his expression in her exuberance. He wasn't really sure what it was, but there was something about her that made her enthusiasm infectious. She clearly wanted to be here out of her own will, and not because of some publicity exercise. It was quite obvious that she didn't need it, anyway.

"I'm sorry about before," he ran a hand through his hair as he was prone to do when he felt a bit awkward over something, "about saying you were some kind of display piece. Of course I didn't mean it that way at all."

She found the faint blush in his cheeks very endearing, along with the way he had stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Though she certainly had no complaints about his appearance, the stance he had took on made him look years younger.

"It's okay," she assured quickly, and started to giggle lightly. "In fact, maybe I should have put myself up for it, then perhaps a few more people would have turned up."

John laughed along too, feeling freer than he had done for years, never mind just tonight.

"You must find it strange, people you've known most of your life asking you for pictures and the like."

Anna lifted her gaze, sighing. "I suppose it is rather surreal. I mean, it's one thing when you're out on the street in London, and I don't think I'll ever be used to that anyway." She hugged her arms around herself, a gesture designed to comfort. "But when you come back home…I don't mind it, of course I don't. I only think what it would be like if it was the other way round, I wouldn't want to leave anybody disappointed. The worst thing is when people you know _avoid_ you because of it."

There was a slight and sudden sadness marking her beautiful blue eyes, and John felt angry for seeing it.

"I'm being silly, but I don't know. I'd hate to think me being here had put anyone off coming. It would have been good to see some of the others."

John had noticed that there had been a rather unbalanced distribution in the evening, with a greater number of staff than students. However he put it down to the fact that these kind of events were generally for the older generation, who were either at a loose end for something to do to fill a weekday evening or just wanted to fulfil their curiosity.

"Wow, how egotistical do I sound? I promise my head can still fit through the door." Her face was serious for a few moments, before she broke out into another smile. "Let's talk about something other than me and my so-called woes."

She gazed up to the sky that was deepening dark, John following suit with his own eyes. It was almost painful how similar the night had been to back then, but it was reassuring enough to be different too.

"It was the Leavers' Ball." Sure enough, the memory cut through him like a knife. "The last time I saw you."

Anna tried not to sound too sombre about it. She remembered well; she could scarcely have forgotten. The sense of humiliation she had felt in those few moments afterwards had faded quickly, replaced with a longing that she had never been truly able to get over. She told herself enough times that eventually she would stop feeling that way. People around her went on dates, found partners, a few had even settled down and got married. She was more than happy dedicating herself to her career, knowing that she had the passion and conviction to see it through. But in some respects it was a double edged sword, especially given who much of that conviction came down to. It couldn't be denied; there wasn't a day that passed without her having thought of him somehow.

"Yes."

She deserved more than a one-word response, but he wasn't sure what he could offer her that would heal the hurt. Hurt that he had never wished to cause.

"Thirteen years ago. That seems crazy." She half-smiled as she pondered where the time had gone to.

"A lot has changed since then."

Her eyes flickered up to him instantly, and she didn't want to seem too hopeful but she found that she couldn't control it.

"For you," John added, and felt a part of him crush with the dejection that washed temporarily over Anna's face. He couldn't get her hopes up, even after everything. She was deserving of a far better man, and he still had so much more to do to get anywhere near close.

She recovered quickly, brushing it off almost as if it were nothing.

"I'll say," she answered with a smile that wasn't too much of an effort. "Got my three years of drama training."

John grinned as he recalled the many occasions he had encouraged her to get a proper education in the field. He knew she was clever enough to heed the advice, but it was still a relief to hear.

"Though you can never stop learning, not in this business," Anna exclaimed with a flourish which made John chuckle.

"That's very true," he replied. "And you're happy with what you're doing?"

"Very much so. I've been very lucky."

John shook his head firmly, causing the strand falling across his forehead to bob wildly. "Luck is only a tiny part of it. You get nowhere if you don't put the work in. And we both know it's hard to beat you when it comes to that."

Anna began to flush despite herself. Mr Bates was always forthcoming with his praise, but she remembered how he offered helpful criticism too. He was never unkind, and that was just part of what made him such a brilliant teacher whom she respected so much, as well as being a fine figure of a man. That only caused the crimson blush on her cheeks to increase, and she shook her head.

"Don't let people get you down, Anna." His voice was lower now, deeper in its sincerity, though he always spoke in such a way to her. "It's their own lookout if they choose to let things that don't matter blind them. It's their loss. And it's certainly not your fault."

_It never was,_ the voice in his head was screaming for him to say aloud.

She smiled softly towards him, wishing she could reach out and take his hand, at least do something. Time had seemed to have flown and stood still all at once, and Anna was rather alarmed as she noticed the position of the hands on his watch.

"I promised Mrs Hughes I'd catch up with her before I went," she said somewhat apologetically. "And I do have to leave soon. I'm on a curfew, would you believe?"

John smiled as she rolled her eyes rather adorably.

"It really was wonderful to see you, Mr Bates."

He laughed to himself. It seemed some things would never change, but he didn't mind that much.

"And the feeling is mutual. Have a safe trip home, Anna."

"Thank you, you too."

She hesitated for a moment, bringing her hair back beneath her ear just to have something to do. Then she decided, _to hell with it_. She wasn't going to be in town for very long before she needed to be back filming, and he probably wouldn't want to see her again. But she had nothing to lose.

John watched as she brought her phone out of her clutch bag, as well as a pen and, after a fruitless search for a piece of paper, a tissue.

"My number, just in case you might want to catch up again. Properly," she added emphasis as she offered out the tissue with the scribble upon it. He was going to say something about how it wasn't a good idea, until he remembered again that she wasn't a student any more. And as it went, he certainly wasn't a teacher.

Anna felt a little wave of triumph as his hand took the tissue from hers, and a small series of tingles descended through her on the momentary brush of their fingers. She gave him one final smile before she headed in the direction he had came from, him remaining where he stood with a mirrored expression upon his face.

Stopping in her tracks just as she was about to go in, she looked over her shoulder to see his tall figure and his gaze directed at the ground.

"Mr Bates," she called out, making John respond with his eyes immediately. "I just want to know one thing. Have you been happy?"

Of all the things she could have asked. He had vowed that he wasn't going to lie tonight, and he hated that it was to her most of all, but it was for her sake which meant that it would only hurt him.

"I have."

The look of peace she left with was enough of a reward. Watching her disappear, John tried not to let the irony of the situation hit him, but it was impossible.

She would have been the only one who could have ever made him happy again.

* * *

**A/N: For people who don't know the UK school system, sixth form is the upper level of high school where students do their A Levels which are the exams required to enter university or other form of higher education. Typically students are aged between 16-18 in sixth form, but I have it in mind that Anna and her classmates were 17 when they went into it. You can find a bit more information on Wikipedia. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: An update! I'm still trying to stay a couple of steps ahead of myself on this story but with that big event coming up soon, we'll see what happens. Anyway, very much hoping that you continue to enjoy this! Disclaimer does and always will stay the same.**

* * *

It was as though he had been transformed into a completely different person. Since that night John was remarkably upbeat, waking in the morning with a smile planted firmly upon his face, regardless of whether he had been dreaming or not. He arrived at the big house at the same early hour but much brighter than before, a spark in his eyes and a spring in his step. As he went on his daily checks around the place he whistled any number of whimsical tunes out loud, turning to wave and strike up conversation with the suppliers and the few people who drifted in and out. They stared back at him somewhat perplexed, dumbfounded that this man who usually kept himself firmly to himself had turned suddenly into a chatterbox. Of course, his new demeanour had not gone unnoticed by his closest friend, and John chuckled to himself as he felt Robert's glare trail after him as he headed outside to make some repairs.

"Can't a man have reason to be happy?" John turned, flinging his arms outward as his shoulders shrugged.

"Certainly, but if you think I'm not going to find out the reason, you are very much mistaken, my dear fellow."

John didn't worry too much at Robert's threat, knowing that after the initial pursuit had died down he was absolutely rubbish at doing any real investigating, always getting distracted by some other matter. For now the secret was safe, and he couldn't stop himself from becoming lost in memories of her smile and the way her eyes shone, the scent of her perfume and the very gentle sway of her hips as she walked. Memories that had long lay dormant in his mind, now reawakened and added to by the simple fact that she, not quite in the same way as him, had got older. He braced his left hand upon the cool steel of the ladder, his right swiping across his forehead as he attempted to gather himself. The increasing warmth of the day didn't help matters.

In truth he shouldn't have been so cheerful. Glimpses of his reckless younger self came back to him when he considered how far he was getting his hopes up, without any real cause. He hadn't been lying when he had said that life had changed for her, but not really for him. He had too much baggage, some of his deepest problems lying not too far away, and though much time had passed he was still working things out, his whole being just that complicated to unravel. There was no question of letting her even imagine that there might be some involvement between them now. Even if she begged and pleaded – _her voice, still so hopeful as it became drained _– he couldn't give in and let it be. There hadn't been a brighter time for her, he had learned that much when they had talked. She was on the verge of becoming one of the most well-known names in the country; she mentioned a few times how those behind the show guarded her intently, keeping her away from unwanted attention. He couldn't blame them, aware of his own strong protective instinct towards her. He, and the mess that was his life, was certainly the last thing that she needed, regardless of what she might have wanted.

Not to mention the most obvious fact; that she was almost certainly already taken. He decided not to stay for too long after she had left him, feeling suddenly drained of his energy, and as he was leaving he had noticed the car and Anna standing just next to it, her head thrown back as she was laughing with a man she was clearly familiar with. Even though his heart had dropped to the floor, the scene made complete sense. She had not divulged anything but he wouldn't have imagined a woman as beautiful and intelligent as Anna would be without a boyfriend. This guy was much closer to her own age, good looking and she plainly thought he was hilarious. With a pang in his chest and more than a faint sense of dejection, John managed to draw a small smile at the sight of her. Anyone who made her that happy had his approval, and he couldn't deny the fact that she looked so wonderful with the light from her heart shining out. _In another world_, he thought to himself. Both the time and the place had passed by, long ago.

He sat restlessly in the armchair, one hand dancing upon the arm rest as he used the other to flick through the radio stations. The usually reliable bookshelf had drawn a loss, with him rejecting each of the titles in turn. Unusually, he wasn't in the mood to read. He didn't appear to be in the mood for much, except to think of her yet again. He would drive himself crazy soon enough, he was sure of it.

The iPhone stared at him from the coffee table, refusing to stop until its lure had paid off. Robert had bought it for him last Christmas, primarily for work purposes and also because he couldn't stand to see that battered-up old model that did nothing other than make calls and texts for a second longer. John always argued that it did the job just fine, and rather liked driving Robert to distraction with its tinny ringtone. He was getting used to this new one, having to admit rather grudgingly that its extra features did come in useful.

He had barely made it back through the front door that night as he punched at the keypad on the screen, storing Anna's number safely in the phone's memory. He kept telling himself that it was only just in case; perhaps she would need a contact up here if something went wrong for whatever reason, and he certainly didn't mind being that reliable person. In a way, it made him feel flattered – nobody had really _needed_ him for a long while.

Perched on the end of his seat, John weighed up the pros and cons. Normally there would be no question, his tendency to look on the black side of things making the choice firmly for him. Yet he couldn't run from the change that had apparently brought him back to life, igniting feelings that he thought had long disappeared. A switch somewhere within him had flicked to optimism, and though he didn't totally understand it, the sensation caught hold of him as he seized the device, pressing the button when he got to her name. It was at top of the list, so it didn't take him very long.

John counted the rings as they sounded out, taking in a deep breath while they continued fruitlessly. He should have known, honestly. She had probably forgotten all about the fact that she had even given it to him, becoming nothing other than a passing thought to her as she got on with her life that was so full. He wondered what she might have been doing at this very moment, until a thought that was probable but too painful crossed his mind. Exhaling, he shut his eyes and moved to take the phone from his ear. A whisper of a voice grew louder, trapped by the line, and John's eyes flew open as he heard her.

"Mr Bates?" She sounded rather breathless, worn out from exertion. "Is that you?"

He was more than a little surprised by her assumption, given that he not returned the favour by giving out his number.

"Yes, it's me," he answered after a few seconds. "If this is a bad time, then I can…"

"No, no, not at all." Her voice evened out, became brighter in the space of seconds. John wouldn't fool himself by thinking it was because of him; it was just her natural state of being. He could picture the smile stretching her lips perfectly. "Sorry, I was just washing my hair and I'd left my phone downstairs. I know that sounds like the most awful cliché anyone could come up with, but I promise it's true."

As he heard how she was tying herself up in knots, he had to grin and before he knew it laughter escaped him.

"I believe you."

John could discern that she was stifling giggles herself and he couldn't believe how much his heart had lifted in the moments he had been speaking to her, though they had hardly said any words apart from both of their apologies. He tried desperately not to think of what her hair might look like, darkened by the water but still trailing over her shoulders, spilling a few stray droplets over the floor. More likely it was bundled up in a towel and his mind was running away with him.

"Well, this is another surprise," Anna began, the feeling evident in her tone. "I hadn't expected…"

"That you'd hear from me?" John cut in eagerly, cringing a little when he realised how quickly he had interrupted and how he must have sounded.

"Not that," Anna confessed, a bit of hesitation in her voice as she searched for the right words. "I mean, I hoped that you would call. I just didn't think it would be so soon."

He thought to himself, _how long had it been?_ The change in him had been so remarkable that surely a certain amount of time must had passed. He looked at the date of the newspaper that had been left on the table and was shocked to discover that it read _May 17__th_.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't realised. God, I'm hardly giving you any time to breathe here."

She laughed freely now, and to his surprise, John didn't feel too foolish.

"It's fine, really. I've had more than enough time to get up to speed."

He relaxed back into the chair, letting her words wash over him and occasionally remembering that he had to speak himself.

"How have you been?" he asked, not sure how much would have changed in the space of less than two days but genuinely keen to know.

"I've been good," she replied easily. "Enjoying being back. Seven years, and it's like I've never been away."

She didn't appear astounded by the rapid movement of time, and John started to wonder what he had been doing this time seven years previous. It was probably just as well that he couldn't recall completely.

Anna let out a breath on the other end of the phone, as if she was contemplating something herself. "I've always thought people were having me on when they said it, but the air really is different up here. I suppose you don't realise it when you're gone, but then it all comes back."

John smiled wistfully at her wondering, thinking that was quite true for many things.

Confidence overpowered his doubts, and he thought it had been long enough.

"I was just thinking, on the off chance, if you were free at all…" He ruffled his hair quickly, frustrated that he couldn't seem to string a full sentence together. "We didn't get the chance to catch up properly the other night. As lovely as it was."

The line was silent for a moment and he had a horrible feeling he'd made a massive mistake, until her sweet voice spoke again, apparently delighted by the simple suggestion.

"I would love to," she confirmed. "After all, there's a lot to catch up on, I'm sure."

The smile he was still wearing grew a little strained as he considered what he might have to reveal, just in the natural flow of things. He didn't think that Anna would pry, but it wouldn't be fair for her to share so much and get nothing in return. Of course, there was the good chance that once she knew not even everything about him it would put paid to any idealistic visions she might have held.

"I can't do tonight, I'm afraid," Anna shook him out of his fretting. "I've got some family stuff going on."

"Of course," he replied. "I should have thought, really. No need to worry."

"You're not going to give up that easily, I hope." Her giggling punctuated the end of her sentence, making a mockery of the sternness she had tried to convey. "I've got nothing planned tomorrow evening. Would that suit you okay?"

John didn't have to think twice; his social calendar was not exactly bursting at the seams with prior commitments.

"Tomorrow evening is good for me."

As he confirmed, he felt a not entirely unpleasant knot tighten in his stomach.

"Brilliant." She sounded genuinely excited at the prospect, and he tried not to reason why. "Shall I meet you in the village at 7? We can work something out from there."

"Sounds like a plan." He let a moment of silence pass to acknowledge the enormity of what he'd just done, still getting used to the fact that it was nothing that needed to be worried about. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Anna. Take care."

"Goodbye."

She smiled rather stupidly to herself, tracing her top lip with her fingertips while she held her phone in her other hand. It certainly hadn't been expected that he would call her; in fact, Anna had discounted the possibility this morning after allowing herself to hold onto a bit of hope since she had been brave enough to hand it over. No doubt many others in her situation would have played the game differently, flaunted the fact that they had the upper hand at last – though she didn't see it that way with herself at all – or not even bothered to go over in the first place, letting the bitterness of the past overrule them. Anna was not one to hold grudges. She couldn't possibly, when she had been the one who had acted somewhat irrationally and, in the starkest truth, childishly. Looking back she was more than a bit embarrassed by the way she had handled herself, yet at the same time she had no regrets. When she had encountered him the other night part of her felt exactly like that lovesick seventeen year old again, her hopeless heart longing for someone she couldn't possibly have. It did feel a little strange, to be talking with him on the phone almost like there was no history between them, and yet for all the years that had passed their familiarity still remained. Perhaps some would have thought it curious, but to Anna it was completely natural. Like she had returned home in more ways than one.

Her heart was still pounding fiercely from having heard his voice, and she could feel her pulse in her temples. If anyone could see her now they'd think it was quite silly the state she had gotten herself into. It was a topic of much interest to Anna's friends, the fact that she seemed to have little interest in romantic relationships. _You can't be taking your career that seriously_, they would say to her – never mind that some of them were in the very same profession and so seemed to have obvious double standards. Surely now was time to take advantage of the male attention that was coming her way, although Anna couldn't be convinced about that; she didn't want to be with someone who was more concerned about dating _Lady Iris_ _Hartley _than they were Anna Smith. Even Gwen was at her about finding someone to 'have some fun' with, as she so delicately put it. Though she was a bit easier on her oldest friend, her reply to the endless queries was always the same, and borrowed from her mother: _the trick about business was to mind your own_.

She had tried to put it at the back of her mind so many times, deny that it was true to herself because it would only hold her back. But the more she thought about it, it seemed undeniable that John Bates was the reason why nobody else could possibly compare in her eyes.

She was still lost thinking about him and trying to pinpoint in her mind the exact shade of his irises when she felt her phone buzz in the palm of her hand. Half expecting and hoping that it might have been a follow-up text from Mr Bates, she was a bit disappointed to see Tom's name flash up instead. As she clicked to open the message, she shook her head in amused disbelief while she read.

_- Met the most gorgeous girl the other night. The Grantham Arms is the place to be. Said she was from Yorkshire but sounded a lot posher than you. It's still not too late to take those elocution lessons, you know. Heading to London tomorrow but I may be back… ;) Catch ya soon, Smithy _

Anna let out a laugh, only imagining what impression Tom had made on the poor girl. Still, he had been sober so he couldn't have got up to too much trouble.

No sooner had she put it back on the arm of the settee did the phone's screen light up again. Anna grinned as she recognised the sequence of numbers from a few minutes ago. Sure enough, this time it was him.

_- I know you'll have it with me ringing, but here's my number just in case. Great to speak to you again, looking forward to tomorrow – John_

"I'll never understand it, you young ones and your attachment to those things."

Anna glanced up to see her mother standing in the archway into the kitchen from the living room, arms folded across her chest and with a distinctly unimpressed look on her face. She was comforted by the fact that no matter how the world turned, some things would always stay the same. Her mum was a creature of habit, sticking to what she knew and not one to embrace change – that was, unless her Aunt Deborah praised something, then she simply had to have whatever gadget was going. Though she'd promised to buy them a new house in one of the estates just on the edge of the countryside once she'd made a bit more money, her mum would have none of it, especially not as her dad had just finished knocking the wall through to create the open-plan sitting room, and they'd be getting a conservatory too soon enough. It was rather nice to be standing in her childhood home, remembering all the good times as well as the stupid arguments that had taken place there.

"I just don't see the attraction at all, little pieces of metal." Elaine continued her rant at modern technology. "And yet nobody is ever off them. No one has a proper conversation with each other anymore thanks to them."

"We're having one now, aren't we?" Anna fought the urge to roll her eyes to the ceiling and smiled at her mother instead, though she couldn't resist throwing a bit of sass in. "At least we would be if you let me get a word in edgeways."

Elaine threw her daughter a look as if to say '_mind your cheek'_, which was understood loud and clear.

"I promise I will switch it off," Anna vowed, reaching for her phone but stopping before she could press the button. "Oh, though Gwen did say she would call me about rearranging our shopping trip." The redness in her mother's cheeks made it look as though she would explode soon enough. "I did tell her before we left for the restaurant."

Elaine relented at that, dropping her arms to her sides. "She was more than welcome to come along tonight."

"I don't know if she can manage much more than soup and ice cream at the moment," Anna retorted. "But I'm sure she'd love to another time."

"So that means you'll be back sooner rather than later?"

She never failed to be impressed by her mother's ability to read her mind, sometimes before she was even aware. Anna tried not to seem overly excited by the fact, lest her mother wonder even further.

"Yes," she replied, "I'm going to come back once filming is finished. It shouldn't be too much longer now. And I promise this time." She felt a wave of guilt wash over her, knowing she had made promises before that she'd had to alter due to work commitments.

Instead of scolding her, Anna was pleasantly surprised by her mum coming over and wrapping her in a hug. She stifled a laugh at her mother's shoulder at this sudden display of affection.

"Oh love, that's wonderful news. I can call your gran, she'd love to go to the flower show with you again."

"Of course," Anna said brightly, fondly remembering when her gran took her to the annual Downton flower show when she was tiny, a highlight of the calendar. Her gran would complain that it was fixed, going to that old Lady Grantham year after year, telling a young Anna that just because she had a grand title she thought she ruled the village. And yet she'd never say otherwise when it came to attending, always dressing in her finest clothes for the event and making sure Anna and her sister looked presentable too.

Elaine dabbed at her eyes, overcome at the news for a few moments. Her beaming smile was soon replaced by a straightened face as she grasped Anna's sides.

"Besides, you need a few decent meals down you. Have some proper food and not what they try to pass off as portions in London."

Anna scoffed as her mother poked and prodded at her, breaking into a smile as her mum did again. She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the hallway.

"And be quick about sorting out your hair," Elaine warned as she started to climb the stairs. "My days of surrendering my use of the bathroom for hours are well behind me."

* * *

_As the term went on, it was becoming evident to John which students were standing out, with apparently little encouragement from him. Though most of them tried their very best, some just had an inherent gift for drama. Anna Smith was one of the most naturally talented. She did have a tendency to be rather modest, and in the earlier months she was a little shy when it came to performing in front of the class. However after the Christmas holiday she grew in confidence, overcoming her initial reservations. Every time she stepped on the stage she got even better, finding something new to portray every time. He gave her a few words of direction but other things seemed to come out of nowhere. _

_As well as being quite remarkable on her own, she had that special quality that was so important; she was brilliant at collaboration and working with others. She instinctively knew when to step back to let others shine and was very generous with her time. On more than a few occasions, John had noticed her speaking quiet words to a classmate who was nervous or unsure about something, placing an arm around their shoulder, being a pillar of support. The next time they ended up on the stage, their performances were transformed. It was as though she had magic within her, and John found himself rather astounded by it. He had never seen anything like it before. She lit up the room when she was in it, it was impossible to take your eyes off her. He tried not to appear too mesmerised and to remember when he was being called by another student, but the more that time went on the less easy it was to do._

_She would frequently stay behind for a while after class, giving up part of her lunch hour to seek a little more guidance from him. He didn't know why; she certainly didn't need it, but he shared what he was able to anyway. They began to talk about prospects, about life in general. John was always aware to keep safe boundaries in place, knowing the danger that could be implied. Anna had a maturity beyond her years. Sometimes it didn't even occur to him that he was speaking so openly with a student. She was genuinely interested in what he had to say, and he appreciated that deeply, given the state of things at home. If he believed in such things, he would think that perhaps he had found a kindred spirit. A little voice inside his head didn't leave off, telling him that it was far from ideal. Friendships of this kind were unusual. He found himself a bit lost on the days when she had work for her other subjects to do in that time, or otherwise was seeing friends of her own age. Those days were getting less frequent._

_Spring came around quickly, the time when the students had to submit their choices for A Level. They were free to drop a subject after the first year, and many would have to discard at least one of their selections to give proper attention to the others going forward. John was fairly sure that Anna would stick with drama in her final year; quite frankly, it would have been a travesty if she hadn't. He took a deep breath that almost made him dizzy as he retrieved the list from the folder, saving it until he'd got back to the classroom rather than poring over it in the staffroom as most of the others had. His eyes immediately went to the bottom half, seeking her name like a missile. He exhaled with relief and a great deal of joy when he spotted it, but he checked a few more times just to be sure. _

_He was ecstatic for her, knowing how dedicated she was. And as well, he allowed himself to be just a little bit selfish in his own happiness._

* * *

The sun was still in the sky as they strolled leisurely, John smiling as he stole a glance at Anna in her pale blue summer dress, her eyes apparently transfixed to her sandals. She had looked even more breathtaking if that was at all possible when he met her, and he hoped that he didn't appear too scruffy in his navy polo shirt and jeans. This was a casual meeting after all, but he was aware that he had made something of an effort before he had left the house, adding a little more product to his hair and dabbing on some cologne. It was a bit ridiculous, really, but it had made him feel good about himself. He'd managed to direct them away from The Grantham Arms without much fuss, and because it was such a nice evening suggested they might stay out of doors to make the most of Yorkshire's beautiful scenery. Anna had chuckled a bit at that, thinking he sounded for a few moments like a tour guide, but she was quickly astounded by the path he led them on. The secluded gardens near to the grand Abbey were a place she'd never been to, not even on long-forgotten school trips, and they were really quite amazing. She had to enquire how he knew about access, believing that they were off limits to the general public. John had only flashed her a cheeky and quite mysterious grin, saying that some secrets were best kept that way. Anna said no more, reminded of how enigmatic he had always been and how she was glad he could drop some of the façade for her.

They had talked easily about Downton and its peculiarities that made it almost impossible to leave, and Anna went through the things she had noticed were different since her arrival back, which hadn't been that many at all. Though there were occasional lulls in the conversation, nothing felt awkward and John was relieved at the fact. He pondered to himself that they could have gone on talking into the night and still not exhausted all the things that there were to say.

She was laughing now, and he felt less bad about the confession he had just made.

"I hope I haven't offended you with that," he uttered, remaining a touch sheepish.

"Oh no, not at all. In fact, it's refreshing to speak to someone who hasn't seen it." Her smile was so very captivating, unlike any he had ever had the luck to gaze upon. "I'm starting to think that there's no escape. Though I'd never complain. I know which side my bread is buttered."

"I should probably keep up, but I can't say period dramas have ever been my speciality." John smiled, feeling Anna's eyes upon him. He turned back to her with a twinkle in his eye. "Although I'll have you know I'm not completely clueless. It's my mam's favourite show."

The revelation had the desired effect on Anna, whose grin widened.

"Really?"

John nodded. "I can't get her to shut up about it whenever she calls me. It's always _Charlton Manor _this, _Charlton Manor_ that." He thought fondly of his conversations with his mother, thinking that he definitely hadn't inherited her ability to talk for hours on end. "She never misses an episode, and she's probably rewatched them all several times."

"Well, I'm sorry that you've had to put up with that," Anna exclaimed, the sincerity in her voice absolutely adorable.

"No worries." He flailed out a hand in front of him. "As long as you get on with making it, she'll be more than happy."

She smiled up at him as they began walking up to the lake, the sheer difference in their height striking him at that moment. He noticed her fiddling with the bracelet on her arm, pulling the beads and letting them snap back into place.

"Does your…does your wife watch it?"

She had held back on mentioning it for a good while, not wanting to cause a rift. The question had seemed to fall from her mouth just then, pushed on by her curiosity, but it didn't stop a shiver of guilt running along her spine. She had remembered how he had let her name slip once, and she hadn't been able to stop her instant dislike. Luckily, she'd never come across another Vera in the time she had been in London.

He didn't blame her for it, seeing the reluctance come up in her eyes. She had every right to ask.

"Vera did always like to keep up with the fashions," he mused, looking off into the distance before he met Anna's gaze again, trying to reassure her with his own that she had done no wrong. "We're not together any more. That's probably not a shock."

"Oh." Anna was suspended for a few moments, taking the news in. John's eyes were clear and deep, and it didn't help matters. "That's good. I don't mean…I just, I knew how unhappy you were."

John's breath caught, wondering if he had ever been that transparent or if it was just her intuition. He had probably said something at some stage, given the fog of misery he had been in.

"I'm just glad that it happened," she uttered, and he let his lips curve a little. "When was it?"

He racked his brain, finding that some things still remained hazy to him.

"Umm, since everything was signed, it must be just on eight years now."

A lump came up to Anna's throat as she considered. Must have been around the time before she had decided to move to London permanently. She had come so close to staying, wondering whether she should venture once again. In the end she supposed she hadn't been brave enough. She tried to comfort herself now with the same reason as she had then; that he never would have let her ditch everything that was ahead of her.

John cleared his throat, breaking the little silence. "How long have you been with your fella, then?"

"My what?" Anna's eyes lifted upwards, piercing through him while her expression became dazed.

"At the reunion the other night, I saw a guy outside," he stumbled a bit, not wanting to sound as if he had been watching purposely. "It looked like he was waiting for you. I just assumed…"

"Tom? Oh, no. No, no, no." She shook her head swiftly, shoulders bunching up and a mixture of disgust and amusement on her face. "Not in a million years. He's like my younger brother. Urgh."

Anna screwed up her face in further horror, and the sight made John laugh. Even then she appeared absolutely beautiful. Something within him felt relief and a distinct sense of hope upon hearing her confirming it, but at the same time he did what he could to push it down. She wasn't meant to be with him, and he would need to get used to the fact that in time she would find someone who was worthy of her.

They smiled at one another, misunderstandings and regretful memories falling away in an instant. The evening was a peaceful one, and they would think of where they both were now, even ground being reclaimed. The water of the lake rippled softly as they approached it, apparently not a sound to be heard in the world.

"Whatever happens, don't tell me you're going to end up with that Edward fop."

Anna turned, almost unable to believe what she had just heard but immensely tickled by it.

"I thought you said that you've never watched it?" she enquired, her eyebrows raised suspiciously towards him.

"Well, I might have caught the odd bit here and there. Just to comprehend what my mam was talking about, you understand." John glanced up at her with a boyish glint in his eyes. "But you have to admit he's a bit of a prat."

She laughed heartily at his observation. "He's very popular with the fans."

"I'm not sure why," John scoffed, straightening out his hand to list the character's faults on his fingers. "He's one-dimensional, he can't make up his mind what he wants. He has no problem in stringing you along. And you don't deserve that."

Anna's eyes widened as she watched his expression change and the movement of his lips, finding she was drawn to them unavoidably.

"I mean, your character's got spark and grit. She could make her own way in the world if she wanted. Very ahead of her time. She doesn't need to settle for someone like that."

She couldn't stop the smile from rushing up on her face, proud that she'd at least caught some of his attention.

"Okay, so who do you think she should fall for, then?" she quizzed him, and he appeared deep in thought for a few moments.

"Well, I don't know the ins and outs of it," John stroked at his chin, "but I'd suggest going on a bit of a different track. Someone from another class. A farmer, maybe, or even a servant. That'd raise a few eyebrows. And she strikes me as someone who would be willing to cross the divide."

The meaning, whether intended or not, was not lost on either of them. John took in a breath, waiting for Anna to respond. The thought crossed his mind that if he was in her position, he would give himself a smack. Instead, she aimed a smile at him over her shoulder before she started to walk on again, John having to take long strides to catch up.

"I'd put your suggestions to the writers, but I'm afraid we're not allowed to do that," she said as she walked briskly, her hair whipping out behind her. "But I'm sure I could get hold of a boxset for you, so you can make a more informed judgement."

He smirked at her confident attitude, rather taken with this side of her.

The flush upon her cheeks made her seem to glow. "I could drop it by next time."

Her words made John nearly stop in his tracks. "There'll be a next time, then?"

Inside, Anna giggled at his apparently irremovable doubt, still there despite all her signals.

"If you'd like, Mr Bates."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks so much for the continued reads and reviews. Beyond encouraging to hear your words.**

**It seems that a few of you are eagerly awaiting the first kiss. I won't give anything away, but things might get a little clearer here...**

* * *

_Having to drag himself through the gates morning after morning was getting to be a feat of endurance. Each evening as he left he honestly couldn't explain how he hadn't got through the day without imploding. John sighed inwardly, haunted by the prospect of entering into the same charade in the space of mere hours, after a few scraps of sleep. The second he closed his eyes the sound was all he could hear, slow and steady and taunting most of all. He was a ticking time-bomb and he had no idea when he would detonate. Part of him thought it would be a relief rather than have to go on this way, feeling constant fear from a threat he wasn't even sure existed except in his own mind._

_At least he had some escape here. The weekends were the times he dreaded the most, wondering where he could go to get away from her sneering and spiteful words, though they always seemed to reverberate. It had always been far from perfect but now it was unbearable. His marriage was disintegrating before his eyes. The worst of it was that he was far past feeling guilt or sorrow; he just wanted it to be over. He needed it to be over. There was no knowing how much more he could take before he did something he would regret. _

_Standing in the deserted classroom, feeling a growing void within himself, he sensed himself hurtling headlong towards that point. Fingers shaking, he unsteadily unlocked the drawer at the top of his desk, a surge of comfort flooding him when he glimpsed the bottle shrouded in brown paper. He could be careful about this. It was his room, he was the one who held the keys. He wasn't a damn child or a careless teenager who didn't think things through enough to get caught. Gulping a couple of swigs of the warm liquid, letting it coat his throat and then settle, he felt gratified for seconds and then just shamed._

_Lately, Vera was acting like a limpet, clinging onto him as soon as he walked through the door. Her previous plan of being cold to irritate him hadn't worked, so she'd changed tack. She came back from the spare room, sidling next to him in bed to taunt him, plain and simple. The cackle in his ear was proof of that, causing his blood to run hot with rage and then turning to ice. He swore he'd never lift a finger to a woman but he did what he could to push her away. The arguments were getting worse, rousing the street with their pitch and ire. His knee was throbbing like hell, a reminder of the one that had taken place last night where Vera had thrown everything she had to hand at him. The drink __quelled the pain a little each time he took a sip._

_He had thought about quitting. A couple of occasions he had been close to stepping into Charles's room and putting his letter of resignation down on the table without so much as a word. Before he had even considered seriously the intention was gone. Being without a job would hardly solve anything. Being without her would be even worse. God, he knew he shouldn't think this way and sometimes he hated himself for it. When she walked through the door it was becoming clear that Anna was the one bit of light and goodness that was left in his existence. Seeing her for a few precious hours, watching her as she smiled and gave her all, was all that kept him on track., giving him something to look forward to and cling onto. He may have been called pathetic or despicable or weak if anyone ever discovered but he could honestly say that he didn't care. If he couldn't spend at least some time with her, even if it wasn't exactly how he wanted it to be, he might as well lay down and wait to die. He'd take anything, denying his wishes so long as he could have her in his life. Yet it wouldn't last forever. _

_He eyed the rim of the bottle, the weight of the glass heavy in his hands, before clumsily screwing the top back on. The slam of the drawer echoed against his head and upon the walls, and he began to sob, quietly at first but then with increasing abandon. He was past the point of caring and only had himself to blame for his life being in tatters; if anyone happened to be passing it would only impact what he had known to be true all along._

_Still, he jumped when he perceived the soft knock upon the door that was only open a sliver. It was enough for her voice to pass through._

"_Mr Bates? Are you there?"_

_All at once his heart lifted and grew more despairing at the thought of her finding him like this, so full of self-pity. Her calls continued in the time it took to compose himself, and he waited a few more painful seconds before he bid her in. _

_He could have cried again when he saw her face, so full of empathy and concern. The kind he scarcely deserved. She could surely notice the red puffiness marking his eyes despite what he'd done to disguise but instead she chose to look past it, giving him a small smile as she handed the folder that was in her hands over to him. Shivers ran acutely down his spine travelling from the tips of his fingers as hers brushed against them for seconds. John focused his attention on the pieces of paper adorned with neat handwriting, having completely forgotten about the assignment he had set to be in today, before he could resist the lure no longer. Mesmerised by her eyes, he muttered a small acknowledgement of thanks which she accepted with another smile, lingering at his desk for a few moments. He couldn't have sent her away if he tried, even while in such a position of weakness._

"_Are you sure you're alright?" she asked with gentility. "I'd worry if I thought you were upset."_

_John felt his lips lift as he formed his reply. "Well, we can't have that. Honestly, I'm fine. Nothing that won't work itself out."_

_Lying to her felt terribly wrong, but he wouldn't have her getting pulled into his troubles. She seemed willing to become involved in helping him and it was bad enough that he had let it get this far. _

_She reached out and before he could pull away, her hand was covering his upon the desk. The contact didn't last long at all, it was probably only for a second or two, but it was enough to leave him floored. He felt the sharp warmth of an uncovered sun ray hit the back of his neck and it seemed to coincide with her smile._

_He knew that he wasn't yet at his worst, and he feared what would be around the corner. Yet if she could handle it, he seemed more certain that he could too._

* * *

Both girls flopped down onto the padded chairs, bags laden at their feet and glad to take a breather. Their shopping trip had taken an unexpected turn when Anna had been spotted behind her sunglasses and a couple had taken their chances to say hello. Since then they hadn't been able to walk even a few yards without shoppers of all ages coming up to them, Gwen standing to the side as Anna greeted mothers with their children, signed autographs, stood for selfies with a giggling group of teenage girls and had a civilised chat with some elderly ladies who were commenting how refreshing it was to be able to watch something that the whole family could enjoy. Keeping a polite smile on her face throughout she felt awful for her friend, thinking that perhaps they would have been better blending into the crowds in Leeds rather than going to Ripon as they had done. At least by some miracle they had managed to find a quiet table at the back of the quaint little teashop.

She was still a little flushed with the embarrassment of it all, fanning herself with the drinks menu.

"Oh Gwen, I'm so sorry. I really didn't think it would be this bad."

The redhead shrugged, readjusting her shades on the top of her head.

"It's no problem, honestly," she assured with a smile that made Anna feel marginally better. "In fact, it's quite nice to have a bit of excitement." Her eyes began to dance as she spoke, reaching out for a packet of sugar from the little bowl. "My best friend, the big TV star."

Anna shook her head, sheltering it with her hands as Gwen continued to coo and daydream.

"Oh my god, do you think you'd be able to introduce me to Bradley Cooper?"

"We're not quite at the Hollywood stage," Anna couldn't help but chuckle as Gwen's face fell, her fantasies having been dashed. "But you can be my plus one to the National Television Awards."

"That'll do for me," Gwen said with a few thoughtful bobs of her head. "The cast of Emmerdale will be there, right?"

"I should expect so."

She smiled as Gwen's face lit again, just as excited by the prospect of rubbing shoulders with soap stars. It was always good to spend time with her oldest friend, Gwen's constant enthusiasm for every aspect of her career perking her up when she felt herself flagging. Conversely, she was excited to hear about Gwen's life, not finding it at all boring even when Gwen insisted that Human Resources wasn't the most thrilling job to be involved in. Anna insisted that she didn't do herself down. For all her complaining, she knew that her friend enjoyed what she did and was happy with her life in Downton, and that was all that could possibly be asked for.

"I'm gutted that I couldn't make it to the reunion," Gwen sighed. "Bloody tonsils. How was it? You'll have to tell me everything."

Anna bit back a smile as she considered, one person in particular remaining on her mind. Instead she took a sip of her latte, swiping cream from the corner of her mouth.

"There isn't that much to tell, really," she shrugged while Gwen remained unconvinced, "Everyone's a bit older and doing well. To be honest, there weren't that many people there. I suppose they had better things to do." Gwen shook her head at Anna's slightly self-deprecating gaze. "Oh, I did see Louise Harper from English. She's got three kids now. How is that even possible? I mean, it seems like we were eighteen only five minutes ago."

"God, that's crazy," Gwen agreed, and for just a moment, Anna felt a little sadness. Children were a part of everyone's future and, more accurately, most people of their age's present, it seemed, and she liked to imagine herself with at least one at some point. It definitely wasn't the right time now, but she was in her early thirties. Maybe in a few years, when she was in a more reasonable situation. "That's another reason why I'm waiting for Bradley Cooper."

Her friend's comment made her laugh, and she felt assured that Gwen was in the same situation and certainly in no rush to settle down. She always was the more relaxed one, willing to go with the flow.

"The teachers outnumbered the students, really," Anna mentioned, stirring in a dash of milk to her cup. "I was speaking to a few. Mrs Hughes, of course. Mrs Patmore," she paused for a moment before lowering her voice subconsciously, "Mr Bates."

"Ooooh, _Mr Bates_," Gwen exclaimed with a ring in her voice, her eyebrows arched.

Anna felt herself flushing a deeper shade of crimson, without so much as an implication. When they had been at school Gwen had teased her for her obvious liking of the drama teacher, but didn't know the depth of her crush. Anna was a little thankful for that now, knowing that Gwen would be merciless, but she still hushed her with a hint of a smile.

"Don't," she warned softly, but couldn't stop the smile remaining on her lips. Rearranging her spoon against her saucer gave her something to do. "We had a good chat, he was very nice."

"I'm sure he was," Gwen answered with a grin, before noticing the look in Anna's eyes and dropping that line of conversation. "Well, I bet it was loads of fun anyway. It must have been funny going back and seeing people after so long."

"And a bit scary, too," Anna noted, thinking of the trepidation she had felt beforehand but being glad for seeing it through. She wasn't sure she felt quite the same now. "God, Gwen, how I am supposed to give a lecture to a load of kids? I feel sick about it already." Fishing in one of the bags at her feet she retrieved the dress that she had bought especially, holding it against her where she sat. "Are you sure this looks okay?"

"It looks great. Let's face it, you would look amazing in a sack." Gwen smiled as Anna shrugged off the glowing compliment. "And it'll be absolutely fine, you've got no need to worry at all. Remember, everyone loves you, you big star."

Gwen laughed as Anna reached across the table to take a little swipe at her, sitting back and shaking her head when she couldn't quite make it.

"Now, come on, let's take your mind off that. You can tell me the rest of the gossip from the reunion."

Anna's eyes widened just a little as she wondered precisely what her friend was getting at, and then breathed a sigh of relief when she heard what came next.

"Like, which teacher is the most embarrassing dancer? I bet it's Mr Molesley."

* * *

Eleven years since he'd set foot in the place, and he was back there for the second time in the space of just over a week. John could hardly comprehend it; if anyone would have asked him he would have sworn it was a dream, or at least that he'd entered into some weird parallel universe.

He had let the phone ring out for a bit before he answered it, surprised to see her name again and honestly not believing still that she would actually want to call him. Though he loved listening to her, his heart had dropped a little when she explained everything. Before she was due to go back to London Mrs Hughes had asked her if she would come to the school to give a talk to the latest sixth form drama students, being sure that they would be buoyed by the appearance from a successful actress whose background was almost exactly the same as most of theirs.

Now she was asking him if he would go along to support her and perhaps even offer some hints as to the advice she could impart. She did sound a little nervous, and she assured him that she would feel better about things if she knew she had a friendly face to find in the crowd. John had racked his brain for some excuse to get out of it, already feeling a bit sick about having to return again. And yet everything he came up with sounded – and definitely was – pathetic. Besides that, there was no way he could possibly refuse her. She had a hold on him that he couldn't deny and he seemed to feel its pull stronger now than ever. He would atone for the mistakes he had made in the past in any way he could, and any chance there was to spend at least some time with her was a precious one. The smile unexpectedly rose on his face as she chattered about the fact that he didn't have to stay for the whole thing, and they could even go for coffee afterwards as her treat to him for being so chivalrous.

Sticking firmly to the seat he had found near the end of the row, John was aware of how uncomfortable he looked, an awkward speck at the back of the empty assembly hall. The chair creaked slightly as he shifted and he stuck to tapping his feet instead, fighting the urge to rise and make his way not just out of the auditorium but the whole building. He wouldn't let her down, not again. He really could have done with a sip of water, his mouth feeling bone dry suddenly.

The hand held out a plastic cup towards him and he looked upwards to see the smiling face on the other end.

"Remembering old times?" Elsie Hughes's voice was distinctive as she sat down to the right of him.

"Mr Carson knew how to put on an assembly." He managed an honest smile towards her, recalling the days that weren't so bad.

"He certainly did," she rolled her eyes to the ceiling, "sometimes they even didn't last for eternities." John didn't stifle a chuckle. "Of course he's not too pleased that they've had to be cut down now because of regulations. Oh, he relished his moments to say his piece."

"But none of us could have done better," John made the reasonable point. "I certainly never was the orator."

Elsie gave him a little grin with pursed lips, not daring to say anything. The memories did indeed come flooding back the longer he remained there and he was largely surprised to discover that they were pleasant ones. At least, maybe it was the ones he was choosing to remember. Teaching had been a necessity rather than a burning ambition he had always wanted to fulfil at first but it wasn't to say that he hadn't enjoyed it. He had given so much of himself to the profession and he hadn't been disappointed by most of what he had got in return.

John turned in his seat, watching Elsie taking dainty sips of her water. She too seemed to be in the midst of reminiscence, judging by her thoughtful expression.

"Forgive me if this sounds rude," he garnered an inquisitive look from her, "but how long have you been here now?"

The English teacher smiled as she considered. "I'd say it's coming up for 37 years."

"Wow," John uttered, a little astounded. "That is some achievement. Any plans to call time?"

Elsie exhaled a sigh. "I'd hope I can make it to 40. But after that I rather fancy retiring somewhere. Maybe not in the sun given my Scottish complexion."

"Well, I think I'd have to say that this place would fall to pieces without you. But perhaps I'm biased."

John aimed a smile at the woman he had been glad to call a true friend, feeling rather in awe of all that she had conquered. In all that time she had surely faced many tests and tribulations - and likely heard a fair few stories - but had always remained so dignified. He bowed his head as he thought that he could have paid a little closer attention to her example. Feeling her arm nudge against his, he looked up with a fondness in his eyes, half expecting to receive a telling off for being so miserable, or otherwise sentimental.

"Do you miss it?" she enquired gently, and he found that he didn't mind being asked.

"I miss a lot of things," he replied honestly and with only a touch of sorrow, before he shook it away, holding his head up higher. "But you have to keep moving, don't you?"

"That's very true," she nodded in tandem, and there were a few moments of silence as they both absorbed his statement. Time would wait for nobody, and they both knew how cruel as well as how kind it could be.

Elsie seemed to ponder, and cleared her throat before she continued.

"I know it's been a long time, and you're well past all of that business now." Without knowing, John shut his eyes and clenched up his shoulders, waiting not so much in anticipation but dread for what was to come. "But for what it's worth, I never thought it was right at all. And it certainly wasn't fair, not for someone who had given such good service here."

As he let them open again, he tried not to let tears come to the surface.

"Now I won't say that it was something of nothing," her voice took on a sombre tone as he let it sink in, looking momentarily reproached. "But there was absolutely no need for what came to be." As she paused for a moment, John could tell how horrified she was by merely recalling and he still couldn't help but feel guilty that she should be feeling sorry when there was no need. "Heaven knows why there couldn't have been a civil agreement rather than having everything dragged through the mud."

She caught herself just after she had said it, sensing the change in the atmosphere.

"I'm sorry, you should tell me that I need to stop going on," she frowned towards him.

John offered a smile in reply. "It's alright, honestly. I'll always be grateful that at least one person felt that way." He felt better when her face softened in answer to his words, but he still sighed heavily as he thought about it. "If only things would have been different."

"No need for if only's," Elsie's voice was brighter. "You know if it was up to me then I'd have you back here in a shot. And how I wish that were the case."

"I don't know, things seem to be going well enough."

She tutted as if to comment otherwise, and as she did so there was a bellow of her name from downstairs, the unmistakable baritone of Charles Carson informing her that the rabble of students were just about settled and ready to come in. John raised his plastic cup to her as she went, taking a long sip and enjoying the last remnants of peace while they lasted.

The animated chatter of hundreds of 17 and 18 year olds, mainly girls, filtered through the hall, their conversations a mere series of whispers to John. He wasn't sure he would ever completely shake the sense of fear that pervaded him when he was here now, and even though none of them knew who he was, not even being at the school at the time he had been teaching, he still felt a touch of paranoia that they might have heard something about him from siblings or wary parents. He slid further down into his seat, feeling a little foolish, so he could avoid making mistaken eye contact.

None of them were interested in looking in his direction, too excited at the prospect of what was going to happen on the stage. There was an eerie quiet as Mrs Hughes made her way up, thanking them all for being there and making the introduction. His eyes smiled from his cheeks as he watched Anna cross the stage to rapturous applause from the students. Her hair was tied back though some of her side fringe fell loose over her forehead and she smiled bashfully as she fixed it, her hands bracing the side of the lectern. She looked very professional in her dark grey pencil dress and red cardigan, but otherwise it was uncanny how she reminded him of that young woman who was always so modest and full of self-consciousness when she took her first steps out into the spotlight. Just as she had done then, she quickly brightened, visibly settling into her new role as she propped her papers onto the stand.

Anna took in a breath before she began, trying not to focus at the hundred or more pairs of eyes eagerly staring at her and instead seeking the face she wanted to see the most.

"Well, I suppose first I should thank Mrs Hughes and all the staff at Downton College for the Arts for inviting me back here to speak today. It's enough of an honour getting to do the job I love for a living, but getting to talk about it too is just as exciting."

John noticed how she turned to the side for a few seconds after she spoke, surely giving Elsie a smile. For the most ludicrous moment he felt himself grow hot with jealousy.

"Acting isn't just a profession. It's a lifelong passion that starts from deep in here," she patted just above her chest. "It's challenging, it's rewarding, it's a privilege to be able to tell other people's stories. And of course it is a lot of fun too. You get to spend hours at a time being another character, doing and feeling things you never thought possible. You can be exhilarated, you can be exhausted. But I can guarantee that you'll never have a dull moment."

He had to smile at her true enthusiasm, knowing she was speaking every word from her heart and being thrilled by it. To think he once had the same passion and perhaps instilled some of it within her made him feel immensely proud, for all the mistakes he had been unfortunate enough to make.

"No doubt that by sitting here and making a choice to study the subject, you know by now that it's something you want to pursue. And I'd encourage you above all to hold onto that passion with all that you have. Because no mistaking, it will get hard. There are millions of others all over the world who will be fighting just as hard as you for the same roles. Sometimes you'll feel disheartened when you feel like you're putting in so much effort and not getting anything in return. But when things get tough you need to remember that fire within you, and what started it."

She paused for a moment, John noticing that she looked rather emotional. "The important thing to remember is that you have to keep moving, even when the tide seems impossible to turn. Because you will get somewhere if you work hard enough. It might not always be where you want to be first time around, but you will get there."

Looking down at the lines she had crossed out, Anna gathered herself before she moved onto the part of the speech she had given the most thought to. She only hoped that she wouldn't cause any embarrassment, which was the last thing she wanted.

"So of course you've got to concentrate on your studies and get your grades. But you can't take for granted the importance of the people around you, too." She stifled a little smile, her gaze pointed out as she continued. "I'm lucky to have a family who have always supported me in everything I've chosen to do, and a great network of friends from back here and in London who keep me grounded. I'd really be lost without them."

She smiled that beautiful, breathtaking smile once more.

"There is also someone who encouraged me when I was your age, whose words and actions have stuck with and meant the world to me. In fact, it was probably for them always giving me the belief in my own abilities that I stuck with acting and made it a serious business. They showed patience, kindness, gave me direction when I needed it and most importantly let me know how much I was worth. They never let me stop believing that anything is possible when someone special has faith in you." She exhaled a long breath out, breaking into a beam as she did so. "I sincerely hope all of you have someone in your life exactly like that."

John found it hard to focus on the rest of her speech, tears having welled at his eyes as he had listened to her speak so glowingly. About him, of all people. He felt uncomfortable, as though he needed to leave, or otherwise rush forward to meet her. In his heart of hearts he wanted to take her into his arms and only see the smile leave her face when he kissed it away. The surge of emotion swelled in his chest as he managed to stay rooted where he was, watching as she went on speaking with passion, chortling to himself as her hands gesticulated around her, a mannerism that she had likely picked up from his classes.

All he could think about was how lucky he was to have her in his life again.

* * *

He was still reeling as he stood in the corridor, the sounds of students shut behind various doors. John glanced up just in time to see Anna emerging from Mrs Hughes's classroom, the smile she was wearing breathtaking and the little laugh she gave out one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. She noticed him swiftly and something seemed to be suspended in her, if just for a moment. He offered her a small wave and her grin returned, bigger than before. John tried not to puff out his chest too much at the joy he had managed to cause in her. Somewhere at the back of his mind his bitter thoughts remained; that he really had no right to be encouraging anything between them.

"So," she began tentatively, John's eyes caught by the subtle sway of her hips as she walked towards him, "I hope I didn't stuff up too badly."

"You're joking," he exclaimed, "You were sensational. They were hanging on your every word." _And so was I_, he thought without saying. "Have you ever thought about going into motivational speaking?"

Anna chortled tunefully, shaking her head. "I don't know about that. I think perhaps once is enough for me."

John smiled at her modesty, catching her gaze every few moments as they walked out across the yard. The sun that had been so strong had disappeared behind clouds, but it meant that she didn't need to shelter her eyes as she looked up at him.

"It was very flattering, what you said."

Anna's breath caught and her heart began to speed up as she watched him, a humbled expression upon his face.

"I'm not really sure I deserve such praise, honestly. I just did what I could, all of your talent comes from you." John saw just the faintest blush brush the apples of her cheeks. "I'm certainly not as great as you make me out to be."

"Don't do yourself down." There was a certain authority in her voice, and John was a bit amused but mainly impressed that she had turned the tables. "I know that it's not just me who would say it."

He smirked, doubting that was the case now.

"I meant every word." The softness and yet the strength in her voice struck him. "I always have."

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes clearer than he'd ever seen them, and something couldn't be denied. He could have easily taken the opportunity then and there, and he expected that she would have had no arguments about it. John was tormented, he could almost feel her breath against his lips.

Instead he took a few steps forward, not looking to the side until she caught up with him.

"Well I shall take the compliment from you, gladly."

"So you should, Mr Bates."

John broke out into a grin and then a chuckle as her use of his full name registered with him.

"You know, if we're going to be friends, you might start calling me John."

Anna stopped in her tracks, bringing him up short too. "And is that what we are? Friends?"

Confusion hazed him. "Of course I'm your friend, Anna. I…"

The realisation kicked in as her deep blue eyes pierced through him, John swore he could see a glistening over her irises. His gaze drifted down unexpectedly to her lips; she was pursing them to stop her lower lip from trembling but he found he was hypnotised by the way they pressed together.

All rational thought and words left him as he tried to make sense of what she had just said. Was she really doing this, did she realise just what she was suggesting? Of course she did. It was like history repeating over again. She was always so sure of herself, while he was the one left doubting everything.

Anna continued to gaze at him, her eyes roaming his face. She thought of how much she wanted to reach and touch his cheek, do now what she was never able to then. There was nothing to stop her, except the look of worry upon him which sent a dagger through her heart. Her hand faltered at her side instead, waiting patiently as she gave him the opportunity to process what she didn't think was an unreasonable suggestion.

"But Anna…" John stuttered, touching a hand to the back of his head, "this is just…I don't know. It's a bit unexpected."

"Is it really?" she asked, and again the quiet pleading in her tone almost killed him. "You know how I feel about you. I've never exactly kept it a secret," she laughed abruptly, "even when I probably should have done."

He couldn't avoid her eyes, cursing himself inwardly for making her doubt herself and her actions. He was the older one, he should have done something more but it seemed she made him helpless, even now.

"I didn't think you would..." his words faltered. "I mean, it's been years. I thought you'd move on. Forget about me."

She was smiling as she shook her head, a little irritated but completely enamoured with his obliviousness.

"That's impossible," she stated sincerely. Anna thought for a few moments, almost afraid to hear the answer she dreaded from him, but deciding that she needed to know. "Did you forget me?"

Her voice quivered, though she remained so courageous as she stood in front of him. She was a marvel to him. Putting her heart and soul into a wrenching performance or simply pouring out her own heart, she always took his breath away.

"No," he breathed, unable to take his eyes from her. "I never could."

Anna closed her eyes for a few seconds, a smile drifting onto her face and her heart settling back into her chest. She couldn't stay that way for long and felt the unforgettable sensations rushing through her as she gazed upon him again, drinking everything about him in. Her feelings hadn't changed one bit; if anything they had grown stronger, now that she had him near again – close enough to touch – rather than only having an image in her head that she clung onto with all her might.

"There's nothing to stop us now." John was transfixed as she moved nearer towards him, closing the gap that existed between them. If she got any closer, he was certain he would have to surrender. "If we both want to, I don't see that there's any reason that we shouldn't…" she paused to take a breath, unable to stop the smile flying to her face before she said it, "…be together."

God knows it was all he had wanted, for so long. He would have begged to differ with her earlier statement but he simply could not formulate the words. She mistook it for something else, taking a small step back as she continued to look at him.

"I'm sorry," she started to shake her head, "I've had enough time to think, but it must be a lot to take in."

He wanted so much to take her hand in his, entwine their fingers together to never let go.

"Anna, it's not that."

He couldn't hesitate; he'd spent long enough doing that. He just hadn't expected to be doing this here and now; if he was to tell her of all his misdemeanours and actually reveal the truth of what he was he wanted it to be somewhere safe, somewhere she could recover. The irony seemed too cruel, and perhaps it was true that it was what he deserved, but not her.

John made sure he looked into those eyes, the ones that would forgive him anything.

"Things have happened in my life, things you don't know about." He fought any self-pity he possessed, needing to be strong for her. "They've made it different."

He couldn't quite bring himself to say how different they had made him.

Anna remained resolute and unfazed. "It happens to all of us," she shrugged. "Whatever they are, I know they won't matter. I will take you however you are. And I know I will love you just the same."

The coy smile upon her lips brought some of his senses back to life; John struggled to process what he had just heard.

Anna flushed a little, not expecting the confession to come tumbling from her mouth in such a way. But she supposed more than thirteen years of waiting had a funny effect on a person.

"Because I _do_ love you, Mr Bates," she affirmed, filling with more confidence now. "You may think me crazy to say it, but it's the truth."

John shook his head at her assertion of herself, though it might have looked otherwise to her. He just simply thought his heart would explode from his chest.

"There you go," she bit back her smile as her eyelashes lifted, "I'm not quite as good at acting as you'd think."

Her playful remark passed him by a little as he tried to consider what would happen from here.

"We need to talk," was all he could think to say, cringing as the cliché was ill-fitting in his mouth. So much of what they shared had been based on emotions far past words.

However Anna was nodding, a solemn look marking her features.

"I have to leave for London in the morning," she admitted, a short burst of a laugh leaving her lips. "Talk about awful timing."

He smiled fondly at her, not understanding how she seemed so optimistic and bright through everything.

"I'd say you could come to mine, but maybe that's not a good idea." Realising what he might have implied John raised a hand to his forehead, backtracking furiously. "I meant, you know, maybe it's best to have some space."

He worried that what he said had sounded wrong yet again, but she only smiled.

"Yes, I think so."

She put her head to the side, trying not to be too disheartened. It was a lot for him to handle, her spilling everything like that, and she knew he wasn't being harsh. The fact he was still standing in front of her gave her hope beyond belief.

"But I'll let you know where I'm up to." She smiled, that brightness he loved so much coming back into her eyes. "And I still owe you that coffee."

He chuckled, holding onto her smile as she got further away from him.

God knows she didn't owe him anything.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Quite an important chapter, this one...I hope all of you wonderful readers enjoy what's ahead as we continue to learn a bit more about John and Anna, then and now. Also, I'd love to know what you think about how it's all unfolding.**

* * *

John felt the burning sensation surging through his legs, his feet speeding too fast for him to keep count as they pounded against the clay of the earth. His knee protested, as it would do sometimes. He took the increasing pain as a sign that what he was doing was working, trying his utmost to pay no attention to the crippling tightness that was inching its way up his calves. A lengthy run always helped to clear his head, and for some reason it was all the better when it was undertaken in torrential rain. You couldn't think of much else but how uncomfortable it was when you were soaked to the bone. Unfortunately today was dry, yet even if the conditions were more to his liking he knew it wouldn't have made much difference. This bout of brooding had been with him for days, and it showed no sign of dissipating.

He wasn't able to get his head around what Anna had said, not even now when it had been weeks on. Since she had come back into his life, he hadn't been able to think of much else other than her, but it was as though she was still a kind of dream version of herself – close enough to know that she was real, but far enough and _safe_ _enough_ to remain unattainable to him. As she always should have been. She hadn't tiptoed around the matter. Her bold offer echoed in his head, the first thing that roused him awake in the morning and the last thing he heard as he fought against sleep at night.

His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his chest, and it was only in a small part down to how he was pushing himself physically.

He had to believe that she would have come to her senses in the time they had spent apart, that her mind and everything she had would be taken up with her work instead. She had texted him a few times, polite and friendly messages asking him how he was. It was almost as though she had forgotten about her own actions, so different was this follow-up in its tone. He had to be pleased about that. After all, it was entirely for the best that she forgot about him – or at least, forgot thinking about him in that way. Yet he wouldn't describe the emotions he experienced as _pleased_, or _relieved,_ or anything that, by rights, he should be feeling. This was all so unexpected - he was never one for surprises – and his thoughts and reactions were confusing him. A lack of reasoning and a delayed sense of shock – that's what he would put it down to.

And yet the truth, if he'd only admit it to himself properly, was that it wasn't all as confusing as it should have been.

His mind finally caught up with his feet, and both came to an abrupt halt, dust coming from his heels where he stopped against the parched patch of grass that had been worn down to almost nothing. Catching his ragged breath, he reached to massage his knee for a few moments before turning around to judge how much ground he had covered. He was rather surprised, not to mention impressed with himself – he hadn't ran so many miles in quite a bit of time. In the distance he could just about make out a speck of a figure plodding along with heavy steps, stopping every couple of yards and managing a less than half-hearted wave over towards him.

John waited the ten minutes or so it took for Robert to catch up, pacing over the dry ground, trying to bring his thoughts to a similar calm. He nearly spat out the swig of water he had taken when he witnessed the ruddy red of his friend's puffed cheeks, his gasps and wheezes so loud that they were likely to be heard all the way back to the Abbey.

"Oh my good God…God have mercy on me." Robert's head was inching so far towards the floor that John believed that he was about to kiss the ground, only partly out of sheer relief that he was still standing upon it. "Jesus Christ, I've definitely pulled something. Several things."

"I had no idea you were so religious," John chortled, casually retying the laces on one of his trainers while Robert was still keeping a loose grip on his consciousness.

"And I had no idea this is what you did for _fun_," Robert returned, wincing and rubbing at his lower back as he arched his way almost completely to standing straight again. "Keep this up, and at this rate Cora will have no need to hire that personal trainer she's been threatening me with for God knows how long." Rasping another heavy breath, he looked John full in the face. "Saying that, I'm not sure I'd survive another one of these torments. I'd be buried halfway to the end, and then she would feel guilty. And so she bloody well should."

"It won't be that bad once you get used to them," John laughed, pulling up short when Robert fixed him with a glare. He patted his mate on the shoulder, not too forcefully. "We'll take the long way back, at a walking pace. I don't want your sad and untimely demise on my conscience."

Robert nodded his thanks, replenishing himself with sizeable gulps of water before they started the slow trek onward, the path of the land going in a circle all the way round until it would take them back to the edge of the estate. While the distance afforded Robert's body a much needed rest, it had the opposite effect on John's mind. He knew he was slipping back into dangerous territory, and though he made little bits of conversation – without really knowing what he was talking about – the contributions were rather uneven, and contemplative silence was the most faithful companion.

"You're quiet, more so than usual," Robert observed, not too keenly as they kept a steady pace. "Is everything okay, old chap?"

John shrugged, taking the endearment to heart a little more than he normally would.

"You know me, Rob. Not truly happy unless I've got a dilemma to pull slowly apart."

He'd tried to be light-hearted, not really wanting to get into an in-depth heart-to-heart – though those kind of conversations were rare between the old friends. However it hadn't quite worked how he had planned, and he was met with a look of concern. John sighed; he should have known better that such a morose statement would ring alarm bells, considering the sheer amount of time he'd spent wallowing in recent years.

"If something came back from a while ago – some opportunity you never thought you'd be lucky enough to have again – would you pursue it? Or would you just leave it be?"

John noticed a quirking in Robert's brow; he didn't want to be so cryptic, but at the same time he didn't want to let everything out, not yet. Plus it certainly wouldn't be fair on Anna, not when they hadn't spoken about it properly. Robert would probably think it was about a job, and he wouldn't say anymore to dissuade him from that line of thinking.

"Well, my fellow," Robert began, looking wistfully over the horizon, "The way I see it, is that things usually happen for a reason. And usually we haven't got a clue what that reason is, and that's probably for the best, if we don't want to lose our hair and our minds in the process."

His friend smiled knowingly.

"Maybe they're not always the best things, but you live and learn, don't you? And what's the harm in that? Take a chance, and all it can do is go back into the past. Or it might just change the future." Robert grinned while John kept his gaze in front. "My opinion is that I think a man should have no regrets."

John thought upon that. Regrets were all he had seemed to collect over the years gone by, and if he really wanted to make a clean break of it at long last, there could just be something to his friend's words.

"Which is why," Robert added, with a sudden spring in his step, "I am certainly not going to regret devouring a full English when I get back. Just don't tell Cora."

* * *

_The last few weeks of term was always a strange time; the pride and achievement of a year's work coming to fruition, mixed with nerves for the students about to take the exams that they believed would define the rest of their lives and an approaching sense of emptiness for the teachers – a lack of purpose that seemed to last longer than three months._

_John couldn't deny, though he might have tried bloody well hard to, that this year would hit harder than any previous. Two of the most surprising, well-spent – and he had to admit, happiest – years of his life coming to an end far too quickly for his liking. He comforted himself with the thought that maybe he would see her somewhere else, round the village perhaps. It seemed absurd, he didn't imagine that they would share any haunts, and it would be too sad and foolish for him to attempt to fit in where he clearly didn't belong. A glimpse here and there would not compare to spending hours at a time in her company, but it was better than nothing, and he already felt himself longing for the sunshine of her smile in the shadows that would surely consume his life._

_He found her sitting in the corridor half an hour or so before one of their final classes was due to begin, head buried in a book and a pen poised in her hand, hovering over a notebook that was on the seat next to her. He suppressed a chuckle, knowing that she didn't like to be mocked for her studiousness._

"_I don't think there's any need for extra study. You learnt all of the lines weeks ago."_

_She looked up, eyes piercing through him and the smile on her face even more astounding for its unexpectedness._

"_Oh no, this is for my English exam. It's the start of next week, and I need to do all the cramming I can."_

_John smiled, taking the empty seat on the other side of her. "I'm sure you'll be fine. What's it on?"_

"_There are two," she explained. "The second is on Shakespeare and poetry between 1500-1800. The first is on a novel comparison." Her hand fell away to reveal the cover of the book she was grasping. "I really wanted to do this book, but I'm not sure I've made the right choice now."_

"_Jane Eyre. Did that one myself, way back in the ancient annals of time." He smiled fondly as she shook her head fiercely, her cheeks glowing. "Not sure that I could give you any advice though. If I read it again now, it'd be like a new book to me."_

"_I'll muddle through," she replied modestly, shutting the book softly before placing it back into her bag. Her expression was rather wistful as her gaze went to the small window of the classroom they were sitting opposite, and he hated to think that she might have been feeling down. She let out a little breath, turning her knees in towards where he sat. "I don't think I've realised until now, how sad it'll be."_

_He did his best to keep the small half-smile pinned to his face, wanting to buoy up her spirits as she had done for his so often. "It'll be strange, leaving everything you've known for so long."_

_She nodded, and there was a charged silence between them._

"_I don't want to leave you."_

_Her utterance was quiet, though there was nobody else around to hear it, and it came as a dagger to his soul. Looking into them, her eyes were so innocent and sincere. Though he had done his best to brush it aside, to stop himself from thinking it every time he considered, the fact was that there had emerged an understanding between them. An understanding of feelings that had took their time to blossom and couldn't be so easily cut down. An understanding that they could never be recognised the way they wanted them to be. _

_It was a wrench for him to have to look away when her gaze was so pleading, and he said her name softly as a weak compensation, assuring her that he wasn't being quite so cruel._

_Silence stretched out again, and he thought it might have been a relief if it started to carry her away._

_She grew in confidence as she shattered it once more. This time he was compelled to seek her eyes before she even spoke._

"_Will you miss me?"_

* * *

"Try not to miss me."

Anna delivered her line, giving a confident but soft smile typical of her character before she walked out of shot, away from the magnificent castle that framed the backdrop. A few moments of silence rolled on before the clapperboard came down, the sharp click slightly muffled by the outside air.

"That's a wrap," the director for the day announced as the shooting came to a stop. "Shall we go for another take after lunch, just to be sure we've got it in the can?"

"Sounds good to me," Anna smiled, a set assistant hurrying to wrap a shawl around her shoulders as a faint drizzle started to come down from the sky. She nodded her thanks, and spoke for a few minutes with the actor playing Edward before she went to take a check.

People began to scatter across the grounds, cameras with cranes being slowly and carefully moved backwards and the catering van opening up, cast and crew beginning to scamper over to get their fill of food. Anna took a few moments to simply stand still, breathing in the fresh air and gazing in awe at the remarkable sight in front of her; the castle was simply stunning, and although it was Downton's pride and joy, she'd never actually been this close to it before in person.

She still couldn't really believe it, feeling almost like she needed to pinch herself beneath the shawl to be sure that she was standing there. The producers had made her aware that they would be filming at another location which would stand in for another stately home as part of a storyline, but she had imagined it would be somewhere not all that far from the sets that were usually used down South. To be back home quite so soon and to be there for work, no less, was rather a shock – but a very nice one indeed. As there wasn't a lot to do, the filming here would only last for three days at most, and already Anna's scenes were pretty much finalised. She had already arranged to see her family for a flying visit and would probably have an evening out with Gwen tonight; she needed to call her back before the lunch break was over to sort out the plans.

Her mind went to Mr Bates – _John_, she quickly reminded herself, stifling a giggle. She was sure that he was busy with other things, and she didn't want to think she was encroaching too much, certainly not expecting him to drop everything every time she called and said she was in town. Really, she didn't know whether he was still living in Downton or not; he hadn't given any indication to whether he had moved out to one of the surrounding towns. She didn't really know that much about his life now at all; they always seemed to be occupied talking about other things. Still, she liked to think he would want to know that she was around and certainly hoped that he would want to see her, especially after their last meeting. Her heart jumped and her stomach lurched as she considered how things had been left between them, and thinking that they might be having their discussion sooner than she had imagined. She decided there would be no harm in dropping him a line later; it would hardly change much if he didn't have the time to see her while she was back now. They would still meet at some point, and maybe she did need to get her head a little straighter first.

In the meantime, she decided that now was a good time to take a look around the grand and majestic house, while there was a rush towards the lunch van. The producers had been able to grant the actors access inside, just so long as visits were staggered and there were no major disturbances. The owner – or rather, the inheritor – had assured that that wouldn't be the case, so Anna wanted to make full use of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, already feeling excited as she stepped inside the ornate doors and looked up to the decorated ceilings so far above her head. She had only been filming in the hall and one of the smaller rooms, so she was eager to explore the rest of the interior – or at least _some_ of it, considering that it looked even more spacious than it had appeared outside and she only had just over an hour's break.

She went in and out of a few rooms, including the library, study and what she imagined was one of the sitting rooms, and found herself astounded that one family would have actually lived here, when the sitting room alone was bigger than the whole lower level of her own family's home. The ornaments and décor were beautiful, and she was more careful than she had been in her entire life when she plucked an empty water bottle from where it stood upon the huge marble fireplace, thinking one of the crew must have forgotten to clear it away.

She was about to walk down one of the many corridors that led past the central feature of the staircase when a lone figure in the distance stopped her steps short. Whoever it was seemed remarkably similar in height and build, and she noticed that he was tinkering with one of the smaller chandeliers that hung down beneath an archway. She glanced back to the entrance for a moment, knowing that she should probably get back, but curiosity had got the better of her now. It likely wasn't him – _why should it be?_ – but she didn't think that she would make too much of a fool of herself if she went a bit closer, just to be sure. If it wasn't him, then he must have had a twin brother that he was keeping quiet.

Her steps were silent against the plush carpets, and her mouth hung open as she glimpsed the side of his face. There had been no mistaking; it was most definitely him. He hadn't noticed her, rapt in concentration as he stood on the stepladder with drill in hand, quickly replacing it with a smaller screwdriver once he had taken a closer look. He wore a light purple polo shirt and jeans that were rather faded, and as he stretched up a little, Anna felt herself blush as her eyes focused keenly upon the flexing of the muscles in his back and toned arms.

Feeling that she would have stayed there staring all day with him having no clue, and being a little embarrassed at the fact, she brought forth her courage.

"John?"

He thought the familiar, gentle voice must have been a figment of his imagination, and got the shock of his life when he swivelled his head round to find her standing there, as real as anything. He tightened his grip on the ladder, being sure that he would have crashed to the ground if he hadn't, and felt his face burn hot with shame and a touch of anger, at himself.

_Why the hell hadn't Robert told him about this?_ He was aware there was some kind of spectacle going on, seeing cameras and equipment being set up first thing as he had gone in, but he would never have imagined…

Of course, he answered his own question when he remembered that Robert hadn't the faintest clue - not about Anna, not about the fact she was one of the stars of this particular programme. But that didn't stop him from being furious. She was looking at him with wide and silently questioning eyes, and he wished that he could shrink down to a miniscule stature, or at the very least that she would stop staring at him. She wasn't making it any easier – he was quite sure that, even with all the embarrassment and disgust he had faced, that he had never felt so wretched in all his life.

_It's not her fault_, a voice from the back of his mind reminded him. _She had no idea._

_But I also didn't expect her to bloody turn up here, right in front of me_, he countered to himself.

_Well, at least this will make things easier._

She moistened her lips and adjusted the shawl around her shoulders, clearly waiting for some kind of response from him, a response that didn't – or perhaps, refused – to come.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, with no judgement, only kindness in her voice and just the same qualities reflected in her face.

"Well, it's clear what you're doing here," he said with a scowl, the remark a reflex that sounded too sharp and harsh even to his ears.

Anna didn't flinch; instead, the only evidence of hurt the faint frown that pinched at her lips. John had to think that was far worse than if she would have cast a dagger of a look at him and flounced away, leaving his chances well and truly broken. Still, she remained standing in the same spot, even offering her hand to him as he scaled his way down the low ladder. He angled his way out of the reach and temptation of her touch, not meeting her eyes.

The harmony that had so far existed between them had been broken.

John sighed, reluctantly looking up to find Anna's gaze fixed upon him.

"Please," he began regretfully, holding out his hand to stop her from coming any closer. "Don't feel sorry for me."

Her face shadowed with confusion, clearing as she gave a faint shake of her head.

"I wouldn't ever…"

She trailed off as the way she was looking at him – with not the least bit of pity in her eyes – said more than her words ever could. John felt greater shame then that at any other time in his life, knowing it was his fault entirely that she suddenly felt as though she had to make explanations.

Awkwardness remained between them, the foreign feeling as unsettling as it was merely uncomfortable. John floundered as he was at a loss for something to do, not knowing what he could possibly say to make things better. Perhaps the best course of action would be to give her an apology, and then walk away, out of her life completely. It wasn't a particularly fitting way to end things, and rather undignified after not all that time had passed since they had been reunited, but then at least it would ensure that there was no going back.

"I wouldn't want to interrupt anything you're doing," Anna cast a glance at the toolbelt fixed around his waist as she spoke, and his mortification reared its head once more, "but I was wondering whether maybe…you'd meet me in a little while?"

John could hardly believe it; she was still willing to speak to him after the way he'd just behaved?

"Anna, I don't think…"

"My trailer is just at the side of the house. I'll have finished for the day in an hour or so."

A redness flared up in his cheeks. "I can't exactly be seen following you."

Her nose crinkled just perceptibly. "Everybody else will be busy, honestly. Unless you'd rather wait."

Now she was here, he couldn't have imagined a worse torture. Her eyes were so hopeful, waiting for his answer. He'd seen that look too many times for it not to affect him deeply.

"Alright," he relented. "I'll meet you outside."

Without thinking he had stepped closer towards her to give her his answer, and the thrill that raced through him as she touched his arm briefly seemed to answer every question he had ever had.

* * *

She had led him to the trailer, him following her over familiar ground. Her hand lingered just a little behind her, and though the aching within him was growing by the second, he didn't dare take the chance to reach out and feel her dainty, slender fingers as they climbed the steps, one set of footsteps after the other.

"It's nothing like in there," she let out a short burst of a laugh, her eyes starting to spark, "but it's not too cramped."

Anna made a gesture for him to sit down but he shook his head, taking his hands from where they were dug into his pockets.

He couldn't take his eyes from her, and he was looking deeper, losing himself every second longer. She was remarkably beautiful, and with such an ornate dress on she appeared even finer. Her hair pinned up meant that the porcelain slope of her neck was more prominent, and his heart had started to beat faster. It was but a costume that she wore but it still emphasised the difference between their respective situations to John; he didn't think he could feel much more worthless in her presence, and he had sunk even lower now that he had been dishonest with her.

"I lost my job at the school," he blurted out, making her turn around, slower than he expected. There seemed to be a look more of intrigue than shock in her eyes, and his dropped to the floor for a few moments that stretched on forever. "A good while ago now. I started working here to get back on my feet again, and well, I never stopped. I know it's not exactly the most accomplished thing in the world to be doing."

"Don't say that," she said softly, almost imperceptibly.

Once again John could discern no pity with her; he created enough of that for himself.

He huffed a breath. "It's not the best start, is it? Lying to you like this."

Anna gave a faint roll of her eyes before she fixed him with a look, ensuring that all her energies were focused entirely upon him.

"I don't see it like that. You didn't lie to me. I never asked," she stated, and he supposed it was the truth. Again, she was making him feel calmer about things with just a few simple words, even if his guilt wasn't completely absolved.

"Still, I'm sorry. My reaction was unreasonable."

She didn't seem to be agreeing with him, silently accepting his apology with a smile. He remembered what she had said to him the last time they had been face to face; that nothing he had done or who he had become in the time since mattered to her. He thought himself a fool for starting to believe it to be true, but her actions were doing nothing to dissuade him.

He watched her tidy a few things from her makeshift desk, noticing a book that was opened with its cover facing out when she picked up her script, a small smile coming to his lips on regarding it.

"I didn't think you'd have the time for that," he observed, bringing forth a grin from her.

"Honestly, we spend more time hanging about here," she responded, gliding her hand faintly over the book's slightly battered cover. "Drinking lots of tea and doing lots of reading, and preferably something other than our lines. This must be the fifth time I've revisited it now."

A light seemed to fall around her from the tiny window, and she covered her hand upon her mouth, yet John could see that her eyes were smiling. This was the image he wanted to keep of her, and he was scared of the power he held to shatter and alter it completely, something he appeared to wield without much thought.

"I don't know where to start, Anna."

He spoke plainly, being as open as he could be. She was not backing away from her intentions, so there was nothing for him to do but let her know what he had been thinking, turning over in his head ever since he had watched her go not too long ago. She said nothing, but the compassion in her eyes spoke volumes and gently persuaded him to go on.

He held a breath, finding for a moment that it was hard to let it go. "I don't know if I've ever forgiven myself for the things I told you. I suppose I'm finding it hard to believe that you can."

"I never blamed you," she answered his question as easily as she always did, the shifting of her feet giving the smallest indication of her own guilt she had held. "I wasn't being very fair acting the way I did, and I realised it soon after." She smiled apologetically towards him, though there was absolutely no need for her to. "I was just so terrified of losing you. Not that I ever really had you, but you know…"

John had to smile wistfully at the way she looked, the sweet memories that were somehow so painful at the same time.

"I thought if it was the last time I saw you, that I had to let you know. Silly, me thinking that it would make everything disappear." She gave a shrug of her shoulders, dismissing herself, but all that John was able to see was the raging sorrow that had carved deep into his heart. "But I don't regret it, as much as I don't hold anything against you. How was I to know I'd get this chance, when everything is different? Please don't blame yourself. You really don't need to."

But he did, and he always would. She was so young, she hadn't deserved to have her hopes dashed so cruelly. Even if they were only words – even if his own heart had contradicted them with every beat it took.

In that moment there seemed to be no difference whatsoever. Everything _was_ different, but she had stayed young.

"I felt the same way," he uttered, feeling her eyes almost explode in front of him. "You know that I couldn't reciprocate then, that I couldn't even say it, but God, Anna, I did." He paused for a moment to drink the sight of her in, only realising now how he had thirsted for so long. "I _do_ feel the same."

She beamed, her hands shielding her magnificent smile before she revealed it to him once more. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She rushed forth towards him in the small space, reaching her hands out to touch his face. He caught them before she could make it, his thumbs running over the soft smoothness of her skin, ascertaining that she actually was real. She smiled up at him, tears starting to fill her eyes. The rush of emotions surging through him, finally released after all these years shut tight within, was incredible, and it was threatening to carry him along in a tidal wave.

He concentrated upon her face, so joyful and regarding him like he was the best, most honourable man in the world.

"Mr Bates," she breathed, and he didn't have the heart nor hold of his senses to correct her, "you're wonderful."

John shook his head, placing his hands tentatively upon her waist.

_She was the wonderful one_.

He realised he hadn't actually confirmed anything, though it seemed nothing more was needed. It had all happened so quickly, he felt he had to assure himself – and more importantly, her. His breath was ragged as he let it out again, still overwhelmed that he was holding the one who had occupied so many of his dreams and so much of his life.

"Do you really want to go down this road?" he tried to steady the wildness of his heart, moving his fingers just a little against her. "Are you sure it's what you want?"

Her blue eyes turned steely, and for a terrifying second he didn't know what to expect.

"It's what I've wanted for thirteen years," she answered confidently, with a smile that said just how much.

* * *

_The whole night had been something of a blur. At least he had abstained from drinking anything, knowing that he was there to keep a watch over the students and make sure that nothing got out of hand with all the excitement in the air. He couldn't stop watching her though; he expected that she would look stunning in her ball gown but the reality had managed to eclipse his greatest dreams. She had come over to him, stuck by his side for not too long of a time before she joined her friends again. She always came back though, and he was weaker than he had ever been when he allowed her to bring him outside to their usual place as everyone else was distracted by the music and the cheering, the toasts being made to all of the leavers' successful futures._

_Her lips were so unbelievably warm and soft, possessing qualities he couldn't even have imagined, and as he prised them apart a little more with his own, returning the kiss she had instigated, he discovered more of her softness, more intoxicating than anything he had ever known. Her hands were a little clumsy but they soon found their way, one reaching to tangle into his hair and pull him down closer to her. The kiss hadn't lasted that long but as his synapses suddenly snapped back into place, feeling her other hand inching slowly down his back, he knew that he couldn't let it go any further._

_He pulled back abruptly, wrenching himself from her mouth with a force that made her eyes spring open in shock, and already he could see the sorrow shadowing their beauty as she searched his face desperately. The regret he felt for letting himself give in – for giving her any cause to hope – consumed him completely, though he could still taste her upon his lips. The first, and the last._

"_Anna, no. That shouldn't have happened." He took hold of her wrists gently, pulled them away from him though he was met with resistance. "I'm sorry."_

"_I'm not," she replied defiantly, snaking her hands back along the lapels of his jacket. "I've wanted that for so long, I've needed it. I need you…"_

_Before she could place her palm upon his cheek, he jerked his head away from her._

"_You don't. You mustn't." He had to take his gaze away from her slightly reddened lips. "It can't be. You know it can't."_

"_It's different now," she challenged him, her eyes wide. "I'm not your student any more. We've waited long enough, and now we don't have to."_

_Her innocence was a harsh wake-up call, her belief absolutely heartbreaking. The warmth of the summer evening air seemed to freeze around him as he leaned further away from her._

"_I'm not a free man. I'm married," he said like a mantra, as though that was the only factor that made anything between them forbidden._

"_I'll wait for you," she vowed. "For as long as it takes. When it's done, give me the call and I will be there." Her gaze didn't relent for a second, her hand so close to falling upon him again. "I know we are meant to be together, and I won't give up on you, no matter how long it takes." They were – thankfully – alone, but her voice still lowered. "It isn't against the law to take a mistress, Mr Bates."_

_He couldn't believe what she was willing to offer, to surrender for his sake. He should be repulsed with himself, making someone like her say those words._

"_You'll meet someone else," he said, doing his utmost to make her see that this was just a passing obsession, which was impossible when he couldn't even convince himself. "Give it time and you'll forget me, and you'll be happy with a better man."_

_Her fresh face was growing sadder by the second, the sight utterly heartbreaking. _"_I couldn't. Not ever." She took a breath, her eyes locked with his. "Because there isn't one."_

_His heart began to fissure in his chest as she looked at him longingly, with so much of her truth and honesty. As his guard lowered, he didn't notice how she had leaned in, craning up upon her tiptoes, her palms smooth against his chest._

"_Please, Mr Bates," she begged, her voice reedy but still somehow so strong and sure. "Tell me, that you love me like I love you…"_

_She was so close; if it had been a second longer he would have relented and another kiss would have joined the singular one they had shared only moments ago. Instead he pulled away from her more firmly, watching her hands falling listlessly to her side and taking steps back so temptation could not reel him in._

_His words threatened to choke him before they finally left him, with a coldness he had not meant to portray._

"_You're eighteen, Anna. You don't know what love is." _

_The hurt searing in her eyes caused a stab at his chest; he blinked to try and get her image from his mind, even as she stood there refusing to move._

_His mind was pulling in a different direction from his heart, each fighting to overrule the other in this moment that was so important. He knew what had to be victorious, but it seemed as though he could not bring himself to see it through completely. _

_Instead, he took one final look at her, hearing her stifle a sob and calling his name in echoes that tormented him as he turned his back and walked away, leaving her in the darkness._

_After downing his first drink of the night swiftly, he headed for the bathroom away from the joyous noises of celebration, breaking down in tears behind the closed door and trying desperately to forget the anguished final memory he had of her, but knowing that it would stay with him forever._

* * *

Her hand had reached up to stroke at his neck softly, and he almost had to shake himself. _It was all true, she was here with him. _The smile hadn't left her face; in fact, it had only grown wider. The sad vision that had been with him for so long had finally disappeared, evaporating in the light of her eyes. He brought her other hand up to his mouth, pressing the barest brush of a kiss against her knuckles. He closed his eyes for a moment so that he could commit this moment to memory, and a tear had threatened to trickle down his cheek, yet somehow it remained held back.

"You don't know where to start," she said, just a touch louder than a whisper. "We can begin together."

His eyes opened and sought hers immediately, seeing nothing but the purity and forgiveness of her love. She had always known it much better than he had.

"Nothing has changed for me. And nothing ever will."

She stroked the side of his cheek with her thumb, keeping his gaze centred with hers, and smiled before she spoke again.

"I know this off-by-heart, and I was going to say it to you then, but I didn't want to frighten you off even more."

His breath caught in his throat as he began to regret again. "Anna, I'm…"

"Don't you dare," she cut him off, the soft smile remaining upon her face. He looked a touch forlorn before he was once more drawn to the curve of her lips, pursed lightly and then prising apart. "_All my heart is yours, sir: it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever._"

Momentarily astounded by the beautiful and heartfelt words, a smile filled John's face as he recognised them from many moons ago. He could have broken down, but it was impossible when she embodied such pure happiness as she did right then, standing before him.

They could both be glad that fate had decided to be kind to them, and there was no question that his heart was hers to keep, captured as it was years before. And he finally believed he could trust himself enough to let it open again.


End file.
